Harry Potter and The Power He Knows Not Book 1 The Reluctant Champion
by ACI100
Summary: Book 1 of a Trilogy: Harry Potter thought his life could not get any worse. No parents, the worst childhood one could ever imagine, and now no godfather. Harry Potter was wrong. When his name comes out of The Goblet of Fire, Harry is abandoned by those closest to him, and is sure that he is truly and completely alone. Once again, Harry Potter was wrong.
1. Visions and Lost Souls

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership nor do I make any profit.**

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 **Acknowledgments: Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story. A massive thank you to Luq707 for helping me with the much needed revisions on this story.**

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 **Self Promotion: I have a discord server where you can chat and read all of my chapters early. If you would like to join, simply copy the link on my profile and for . I had to write it in that format for the site to allow it on my profile.**

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 **Authors Note:**

 **Don't mind the novel of AN's here; it will not happen often.**

 **So finally, this story is getting the much needed revising it needs. I have needed to do this for ages because frankly, I was grammatically inept when I started writing this story. Thus far, I had not managed to find the time to do it. Now, however, my amazing Discord member Luq707 has volunteered his services. The chapters will be revised slowly, so if you notice a drastic drop off in grammatical quality early on, that is why. I did eventually figure the whole grammar thing out later in the story, but keep in mind that I posted this when I was 16, but actually wrote a lot of the first 10 chapters at 14.**

 **I know, I'm weird, but I've always really enjoyed this pairing and always wanted to write a story for it. To do so, I did sort of have to bypass the age difference, which I have seen other authors go about doing a number of different ways. I have simply chosen to use the power of AU to change her age, since I dislike the idea of using "veela maturity" as an excuse.**

 **For those of you who will see the age switch and go "oh, why didn't you just use Fleur?" I was never a huge fan of her characterization in canon, and she would never work with Harry. I will be writing her a bit OOC, but keeping her pretty consistent with canon for the most part in terms of characterization. The difference is, I will at least attempt to justify it. As such, I don't like her dynamic with Harry, hence Gabrielle.**

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"Speech"

'Internal Dialogue'

 **Parseltongue**

 _Memories/In Story Text/Speaking In French_

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 **Harry Potter and the Power He Knows Not**

 **Book 1: The Reluctant Champion**

 **By ACI100**

 **Chapter 1: Visions and Lost Souls**

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Frank Bryce was old, in fact, he was very old. He hadn't been young when he had returned home after serving Great Britain in the Second World War. And that had been nearly fifty years ago. On this warm, summer night, his aching body was reminding him just how old he really was. As the aches awoke him, he stood shakily, wincing as his knee almost buckled underneath him. That knee had never been the same after taking a bullet on the beaches of Normandy.

Frank slowly limped out of his room and made his way towards the kitchen, figuring that maybe, just maybe, some warm tea would ease his old joints. Though as he was gathering sugar, Frank looked out the window and cursed.

"Damn the youth; why can't they let the old place be?"

Outside, he could see lights staring back at him. Lights that should not be on.

Years ago, Frank Bryce had been the caretaker for a manor and its grounds. That manor had belonged to a very wealthy family that seemed to own most of the small village of Little Hangleton.

Frank had enjoyed the job back then. The Riddles paid him well. He certainly could not complain. That had all changed though, when one warm summer morning the maid ran out from the manor, screaming that the Riddles were dead.

Frank had seen the bodies; there hadn't been a scratch on them. The Riddle men looked just as ruggedly handsome as ever, and the beauty of the Riddle women remained untouched. There could be no debate though, they were dead.

Frank himself had been blamed for the murder of the Riddles. Luckily for Frank, these allegations had been proven unjust only weeks later, when the autopsy had revealed that all three of the Riddles had died of natural causes.

That hadn't made Frank Bryce any less of an outcast. The townsfolk still believed him to be a cold-blooded killer. Even now, fifty years later, the grandchildren of those who had been around then still cried obscenities at him.

Frank had learned to tune it out a long time ago. The town had allowed Frank to stay in his small home on the Riddle property and maintain the grounds. No one cared about the house. No one seemed to want to live in a place where three people had mysteriously dropped dead of unknown causes, no matter how nice it was. This worked fine for Frank. He could do his work, live comfortably, and stay away from those who would vilify him.

He hoped he would never have to re-enter that house. He had been disappointed though. In the last few years especially, today's youth seemed to have a fascination with the old manor, and Frank had to frequently chase kids and teenagers away, threatening to call the police if they didn't get out of there "ASAP", as the youth would say.

He sighed, seeing the lights on at three in the morning wasn't the most surprising thing to Frank, though it was irritating, he really was in pain, and he wasn't sure how easily he would be able to chase off the brats tonight.

Resigned to his fate, Frank made his way into the sitting room and fished in a drawer for an old, gold, key. After a few minutes of digging through years' worth of junk, he found it. The key, though very old, was in pristine condition, a stark contrast to the doors that it unlocked.

After retrieving the key, Frank made his way to the front door and gratefully clutched at his walking stick.

"Little brats might just get a smack off this..." he murmured to himself.

And he was off; he began to make his long, slow, ascent up to the decrepit and dilapidated home that once belonged to a fair, rich, and just old family.

After a walk that was entirely too long for Frank's liking, and after a good amount of protesting from his aching joints, he finally reached the door. With a sigh, he slipped the key into the opening and heard the lock click.

Stepping inside, he looked around, and strained his hearing aid, trying to pick up any sound of disturbance. He couldn't find anything, and he figured the kids had seen him coming and hid, or at the very least, retreated to one of the upper floors.

'Making me walk up the bloody stairs too? Oh, just you wait, you little bastards…'. Frank was a little more than annoyed at having to climb the old, creaking steps. He leaned heavily on his walker, trying to make as little noise as possible.

He searched a few floors before he came to a hallway. At the end of the hallway was a door, the door was cracked open the finest bit. Frank slowly made his way towards the door, intending on throwing it open suddenly and scaring the living daylights out of the brats. What he heard though, made him stop dead. It was not a child's voice that spoke. The voice was shrill and pathetic, yes, but definitely adult.

"Do you require more food, Master?"

The second voice though, the voice of this man's so-called "master", this is what really made Frank Bryce freeze. The voice was quiet, and slightly feeble, but it was high and cold, more so than any voice Frank had ever heard. It sounded like someone had given a human voice to a snake, as it practically hissed out its words.

"No, Wormtail, I require no nourishment at the moment. I grow cold though. Move me closer to the fire."

The voice spoke lazily, but with authority. Frank heard scurrying footsteps and the grinding of a chair against the floor.

"Is this close enough, Master?" the first voice asked, slightly out of breath.

"Yes, yes, this will do."

There was a pause, before the snakelike voice spoke up yet again.

"Wormtail, where is Nagini?"

"I think she went exploring, Master."

"You think, Wormtail? Do you not realize her significance to me?"

"Yes, my Lord. I'm sorry, my Lord, but she just...slithered away and…"

"Silence, Wormtail. I did not ask to hear petty excuses. When she returns, you will need to milk and feed her once again.'

"Y-yes, my Lord."

The man's voice shook a bit, and Frank found himself slightly confused. She had just "slithered" out of the room, so were they talking about a snake? Then why did the other man speak of her like a person? As if he had far more of a connection to it compared to the man currently with him.

"How long will we stay here, my Lord?"

"As long as we must, Wormtail. At the very least, we will be here until the conclusion of the Quidditch World Cup. The ministry has tripled security around the country. Every conceivable hiding place is being monitored; it would not do for the aurors to get wind of my return, not yet, for it is far too soon. We must wait until the World Cup has been concluded. Then, and only then, can the plan begin. Then, and only then, can we take advantage of the tournament." The man paused for a moment, and Frank imagined he was smiling an evil smile. "Then, and only then, can Harry Potter be mine."

"Why must it be that boy, my Lord? You could use almost anyone, and the boy is better protected than the stone was."

"That is true. The old fool has done an admirable job of protecting his weapon, but no matter. Albus Dumbledore is not invincible, and even he must bow to the best laid of plans. And as for your question, Wormtail, I would not see any other wizard take the boy's place. Sure, I could use any that hated me, as so many witches and wizards did, but I want the boy. It is a statement, it is beautiful revenge, and it will be the perfect image to symbolize my ultimate victory."

"Yes, my Lord." The other man's voice was quiet, and to Bryce, he sounded defeated.

"Do not tell me you have developed feelings for the boy, Wormtail? After all, it was truly your hand that left the boy orphaned, not mine."

"N-n-no, my Lord, of course not, I wish only to see you rise as fast as possible, and Harry Potter will greatly delay that process."

"Patience is a virtue, Wormtail. I have waited twelve years now, twelve long years, to see the boy dead at my feet with only one other slaughter to tide me over. Surely, I can wait one more."

Frank had to get out of here, he had to call the police quickly. This was not something for a broken old man to try and fix. This man was a menace, a murderer. Yes, he had slaughtered at least once, and he planned to do it again, and to a boy by the sounds of it. Harry Potter, whoever that poor soul was. Frank was about to turn and leave, when something stopped him cold.

At that precise moment, something else caught Frank's attention. A hissing noise from behind him. He spun far too fast and almost cried out in terror, and he would've if he could speak. His blood had frozen, and his cry had died in his throat. Slithering towards him was a twelve-foot long, venomous, green serpent. The thing lashed its tongue at him, but did not attack. Instead, it slithered straight passed him and into the study.

Frank heard a hiss again, except this one was different. From the tone of it, it sounded as if the murderer was hissing to the snake. This man really was insane after all. Frank was about to make his way back to his house to phone the police, when he heard the snake hiss back, as if... as if it had understood.

"Wormtail," the man spoke in the same lazy tone as earlier, but Frank could practically see the smirk on his face. "Nagini tells me we are not alone on this fine, summer night. She tells me that the old caretaker is eavesdropping, just outside the door. Please Wormtail, turn me around so I can give our guest a proper greeting.

Frank tried to move but he couldn't, his limbs seemed stuck together. The door opened, and Frank faced a fat, squat little man with mousy brown hair, and watery blue eyes. Frank would have just struck the excuse for a man over the head with his walker if he could move, but then he looked to the chair and he wanted to vomit.

Sitting in the chair was a disfigured… something. It looked almost like a deformed baby, but it didn't. It was almost like what Frank would imagine is the halfway stage between a fetus and a child. The difference though, was that its skin was slimy and green, and it's eyes were void of pupils and completely scarlet.

"Surprised, old man?" the thing taunted and laughed.

"Having trouble moving are we? Magic, as you muggles will never know, can do many great things. Allow me to give you a taste."

With this, Frank watched as the thing raised a deformed looking arm. In its hand was a long, pale, wooden stick. Frank only had time to think it looked like a wand before the thing smiled, a disgusting smile, and cried out to the heavens.

"Avada Kedavra!"

As the jet of green light sped towards Frank, he had only one thought, good luck, Harry Potter, you're going to need it, and then he was enveloped by the blinding light, and a sudden rushing sound was the last thing Frank Bryce would ever hear.

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Halfway across the country, a small, slightly frantic boy of about fourteen years old snapped awake with a gasp.

This was no ordinary boy, Harry Potter was a wizard, but even beyond that, Harry Potter was no ordinary wizard. He was different in more ways than one. For one thing, he hadn't even known he was a wizard until three years ago. For another, he was unbelievably gifted. Currently, Harry Potter was thirteen years old, and he could cast almost any familiar spell non-verbally. He also seemed to pick up any new spell very quickly, On top of that all, he was a phenom on the Quidditch pitch, having lost one game in his entire life, and had that been a pro match, it would have been declared a no-contest due to the circumstances.

And then there was the whole Voldemort thing.

Lord Voldemort, or if you'd like to know his real name, Tom Marvolo Riddle, was the most feared dark sorcerer in a millennia, rivaled only by the likes of Morgana and Grindelwald. It was Voldemort's combination of raw power, as well as a thirst for domination, and a ruthless attitude to match his spell bank that made him so dangerous.

For eleven years, Lord Voldemort had terrorized the wizarding world, seemingly killing anyone who stood in his path, and for the longest time, it was believed that there was only one wizard alive who could best him. Though this had turned out to be true, the world had the wrong wizard in mind.

Everyone had, justifiably assumed, that Albus Dumbledore would be the one to best Voldemort. After all, Dumbledore was unanimously thought of as the greatest, and most powerful wizard alive, with some even going as far as calling him the greatest wizard since Merlin. And on top of all that, he had bested Gellert Grindelwald only a few decades earlier, a man who, before Voldemort, had been given the title of the most feared dark lord since Morgana.

So yes, it was only natural to assume that Albus Dumbledore would be the one to best the Dark Lord. Fate though, had a different idea.

One night, Lord Voldemort had showed up at the home of the Potters in Godric's Hollow and attacked the family of three. He had murdered both Lily and James Potter, two of the most gifted young sorcerers in magical Britain. Then, he had turned his wand on their fifteen-month-old son, and it had all fallen apart. The supposedly unblockable Killing Curse had seemingly struck the boy and rebounded. The Killing Curse, having never been survived before, made this unprecedented. As the Dark Lord fled the country, no more than a spirit, Harry Potter survived with no more than an odd, lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

And that's where the plot thickened; the world believed Lord Voldemort to be gone forever, but as Harry Potter found out at the age of eleven, the world was wrong.

Voldemort was weak, and his power had been broken, but he was still very much alive. And that, mixed with the odd vision that he just saw, was what was currently leaving Harry Potter breathing heavily and trying to control his racing heartbeat as he sat up in his bead, sweat dripping off of him as if he had run a marathon.

Could the image be real? Harry had just seen Voldemort, or at least, he thought he had. Voldemort had not been a mere spirit possessing some poor soul this time. He had a body. Well, more accurately, a disgusting excuse for a body, but a body nonetheless. He had to have a body, because he had cast a curse, a curse Harry knew to be the Killing Curse.

If Harry's vision was correct, and he had just heard Voldemort discussing the plans for his murder, he knew that this did not bode well for him. He was very gifted for his age, yes, but he figured that his skill would pale in comparison to that of his adversary.

Harry had promised himself long ago that he would be the one to finish off Voldemort for good. The problem was, Harry had thought he would only have to destroy a spirit. If Voldemort could truly get his power back, Harry was unprepared. He was not ready for a final confrontation with the Dark Lord. He hoped that one day he would be, but now was not the time.

Harry debated writing to Hermione. She was brilliant, and was good with this stuff, but he figured if he couldn't think of a solution, or answers, she would not have any better luck. Against his will, Harry's mind drifted to Sirius and he instantly regretted it.

Harry had been supposed to have a home, and for a fleeting few moments he had thought that he could escape the cell that was the home of his abusive and neglectful relatives, but it wasn't to be. Sirius had been a glimmering hope in Harry's life for a few short moments, but then he had it all taken from him. Sirius hadn't made it out of that night alive, and Harry hadn't forgiven himself since. Harry knew that if he dwelled on this, the loss would overwhelm him, and he needed his mind in a right state right now so he decided to move on.

His mind then drifted to the man he viewed as the greatest wizard alive, Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore was not perfect, and Harry had more than a few issues with the old man, but if nothing else, Dumbledore had also treated Harry kindly when dealing with him directly, he was probably the most brilliant wizard alive, and Harry was sure he would have answers. The problem was, would he share them?

Harry admired Dumbledore more than he would care to admit, and he liked the man on a personal level. The problem was that Harry thought Dumbledore was sometimes too focused on the bigger picture. The man had destroyed Harry's childhood by placing him with his satanic relatives, even if Harry was sure it was unintentional, and there was also his annoying habit of withholding information that Harry suspected to be very valuable.

Despite all of, he did trust him. He didn't blindly trust him, mind you, but trust him nonetheless. If nothing else, Harry was a very good judge of character, and for all of the old wizard's flaws, Harry was certain that Albus Dumbledore had nothing but the best of intentions in mind.

So, Harry stood, as quietly as he could manage and made his way over to the loose floorboard, underneath which, he kept his quills and parchment, amongst other things. He withdrew a piece of parchment, and a quill and began to write.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I am very sorry to bother you over the summer vacation, and I hope this letter finds you well, but, something happened, something which leaves me with a lot of questions, and I feel you would be the best, if not the only person, who may be able to answer them.

I know we've briefly spoken about my scar in the past, and I know you said that it was some sort of connection between me and Voldemort. Well, this summer, ever since Pettigrew escaped, it's been bothering me more than I can ever remember. As we speak right now, it is red, and stands out terribly on my forehead. It's quite painful as well.

I think that this is due to the vision I just woke up from. Some may call it a dream, but I am fairly certain that it was no dream. In this vision, I was looking from the point of view of a muggle; I think he was a caretaker for some run-down mansion, but that's not what's important. What is important is that he saw lights on in the mansion at night. When he went to investigate, he heard voices from behind a door, and I recognized them. The voices belonged to Pettigrew and Voldemort.

Voldemort said that they would not move until after the Quidditch World Cup. They also mentioned something about exploiting a tournament, and that even _you_ are vulnerable to the best laid of plans. Voldemort also mentioned something about me, not killing me exactly. Pettigrew asked him why he needed me, and why he couldn't just use any other witch or wizard, but Voldemort just said something about having it no other way, and then followed it up with some philosophical nonsense.

The vision ended with the muggle man being found and murdered by Voldemort. Yes, he cast the Killing Curse, I think. He's not a spirit anymore, but he is not human either. I don't know exactly what he is, but it's not pretty.

Do you think this is real, Sir? And what do you think it could mean? Can you shed some light on anything specific, and what should I do about my scar?

I am terribly sorry to disturb you, Sir, and for asking so many questions, but I have a feeling that this may be important.

I hope your summer's been enjoyable, and that it continues to improve, and I look forward to seeing you again on the first of September.

Sincerely,

Harry James Potter

Harry let out a deep breath and put down his quill. The letter had taken him a long time to write; he had tried to remember every detail, and not to come across as whiny, so he was reasonably happy with the final draft. Seeing as Hedwig was still out hunting, Harry would have to wait to send the letter.

Writing it though, hadn't accomplished what he was hoping for. He still felt slightly panicked, and beyond a little anxious. That was, until suddenly, a wave of calm washed over him. It was odd, and Harry could not fathom what brought it on, but he was grateful for it nonetheless. With the help of whatever force had smiled down upon him, Harry laid back down and fell into his most restful sleep, perhaps in years.

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That same night, Harry Potter was not the only one to be rudely awakened. Across the continent, inside the walls of a beautiful estate, a young woman snapped awake, not long after Harry himself had.

She looked around for whatever had woken her, and was surprised to find it was still dark outside. As she spun quickly to each side, her long, silvery blonde hair flowed across her face, but never lay flat across it, as if some ethereal wind was preventing that very thing from happening.

The Veela pushed herself up into a sitting position. Gabrielle Delacour knew that something had awoken her. In her sixteen years of life, Gabrielle could not remember ever being anything less than a heavy sleeper. While she usually awoke early, it was not this early.

But then she felt it, a wave of emotion ran through her mind that was not her own. It was not strong or overwhelming, but it was there.

Gabrielle had known for some time this might happen. Being a Veela, there were bound to be some complications in her life. Veela had some sort of an internal compass that would lead them to a soulmate, of sorts.

This didn't mean that they would always live happily ever after with perfect relationships. The word soulmate, was often taken out of context. A more accurate description would be the person who was most compatible to the Veela if everything were to play out perfectly. After all, for all Veela could do, seeing the future was not one of them.

It was an odd thing, from what Gabrielle had read, the compass did not make it obvious. It wasn't like you knew as soon as you saw the person. You had to get to know them, and then, there were a number of things that could alert the Veela.

This inner compass, for lack of a better term, usually kicked in sometime after a Veela's sixteenth birthday. Usually it started like this, and that was all the Veela would experience for a long time, random bits of emotion. It was said that at long distances, the Veela would only feel their mates' emotions when they were at their strongest. Once they got closer though, all bets were off. This was no surprise to Gabrielle, as she could pretty much read anyone's emotions that were around her, so she imagined that it would only be easier to do so once she met her "mate".

This wasn't the first time she had felt emotion from him. She had felt loneliness, frustration, and even depression before. This though... this was the strongest wave thus far, the best thing she could compare it to was panic. Not fear, not really, dread, would also be accurate.

Gabrielle bit her bottom lip. It was said that if a Veela was of considerable skill and power, and possessed a good grip on her magic, then she could project emotions over the link. She didn't know why she did it. She didn't love this person, at least not yet. How could you love someone you've never even met? She supposed it was out of curiosity and a desire to test herself.

Gabrielle was very talented, both as a Veela and a witch. She was at the top of pretty much all of her classes, except for potions, because for some reason, she never really was good with them. She had been told she was quite intelligent as well. Her Veela side, on the other hand, that was a bit complicated.

Her and her sister Fleur were what most people would call, "quarter Veela" Gabrielle scoffed at the notion. You were either Veela or you were not — well, sort of. _She_ was undoubtedly Veela. Her sister, well, she had inherited some of the Veela traits, but she was not Veela. She had inherited the beauty, yes, but that was a guarantee if one had Veela blood in their family. And she did have the allure in a sense; males were drawn to Fleur, but it was weak, and her sister could not control it.

Gabrielle had it as well, but it was far stronger, and she could switch it on and off at will. Fleur's, though weaker, could not be turned off. This was because in order to turn it off, one had to have control over it. And in order to have control over it, you had to have been blessed with all of the Veela traits, which Fleur was not.

Despite this, Gabrielle loved her sister; they got on very well, and were best friends. Gabrielle had helped Fleur with the allure. Though she couldn't shut it off, with Gabrielle's help she could tone it down a little bit, giving her a bit of a break. Not that either of the sisters would ever have a break; they were ogled even without their allure.

This was the only bit of her Veela heritage that Gabrielle treated as more of a curse. It could probably have gotten her a very high paying job as a supermodel if she'd have wanted it, but she wasn't interested. Money wasn't a huge factor to her. Her family was extremely wealthy as it was. advertising that.

Her father, Jean, was an international ambassador in the French Ministry of Magic after serving as an Auror for years. He was intending to run in the election for French Minister of Magic that would happen at the turn of the calendar year.

Despite that though, that was not where most of the money came from. The Delecours were a very old family with Veela lineage. In fact, her father had taken the name, not her mother. This wasn't overly unusual when humans married Veela. Especially considering that her mother was heiress to the Veela throne, as her grandmother was the current Head of the Veela tribes of France. So, that side of the family pretty much had an unlimited amount of resources to draw from.

Back on topic though, Gabrielle, unlike her sister, had been blessed with every bit of Veela power.

Gabrielle closed her eyes and focused on her magic. She found it quickly enough, it was a golden aura that surrounded her. Focusing hard, she imagined another aura far away, connected to her own by a fine strand of magic. And then she saw it, because that was what it looked like. She couldn't follow it, not until she bonded with the person, but it was useful for things like this. She then forced herself to be calm, which, thanks to her well practiced Occlumency techniques, was not difficult. She then held on to this feeling, and imagined the emotion traveling across the branch of magic.

She felt, over the bond, the panic wash away, and then she could feel nothing, even when she focused on the connection. She smiled to herself, he must be asleep once again.

Quite proud of herself, Gabrielle stood and reached for her clothes. It was past five, so there was no point in going back to bed. She turned to grab her things before going to the bathroom connected to her room so she could shower.

Before leaving the room she spoke very quietly and softly.

"De beaux rêves, mon amour."

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 **Authors Endnote:**

 **Ok, so I'm doing a final proofread of this chapter after Luq has fixed it grammatically and wow, I was god awful at this point. I mean… the actual writing isn't too bad, I guess, but oh lord. I promise the whole story is not this cliche and that it is WAY BETTER later on. Again, I did write most of the first 10 chapters when I was 14 before not touching it for two years, so I would ask for a bit of a break on them. There is SO MUCH I would change if I could go back and restart this story but hey, I've gotta work with what I've got XD**

 **It should be noted that the whole "Veela bond" thing does not mean they are automatically soulmates. Again, I really wish I had not used that concept, but it's actually not that big of a thing in this story beyond its use for characterization purposes later on. It was essentially a plot device used to get Gabrielle interested in Harry, but it does not force them to be together or any such nonsense.**

 **If you are new to the story and don't want to read the chapters until they're revised, (I don't blame you) look at the very bottom of each chapter. If I have a note about date of revision, it has been revised. If I don't, it has not been.**

" **De beaux rêves, mon amour." = Sweet dreams, my love.**

 **Please read and review.**

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 **This chapter was revised on June 15th, 2020 to fix a frankly absurd number of grammatical issues and make this a bit more readable. I have not touched the contents, as much as part of me wants to XD**


	2. Plans and Veela

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership nor do I make any profit.**

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 **Acknowledgments: Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story. A massive thank you to Luq707 for helping me with the much needed revisions on this story.**

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 **Self Promotion: I have a discord server where you can chat and read all of my chapters early. If you would like to join, simply copy the link on my profile and for . I had to write it in that format for the site to allow it on my profile.**

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"Speech"

'Internal Dialogue'

 **Parseltongue**

 _Memories/In Story Text/Speaking in French_

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 **Harry Potter and the Power He Knows Not**

 **Book 1: The Reluctant Champion**

 **By ACI100**

 **Chapter 2: Plans and Veela**

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By the time that Harry awoke the next day, it was past noon. For a minute he was shocked. Whatever had allowed him to calm down last night had done its job well. Harry felt like it had to be magic; he hadn't even dreamt, and he could not remember the last time that had happened. And then he realized that he had slept past noon, and the implications this would have. He was horrified by this for a moment. After all, he had to make his aunt and uncle breakfast, but then he remembered that they were going out to breakfast with Uncle Vernon's boss, and that they would be spending most of the day at the man's house.

This realization drew a relieved breath from Harry. He was snapped out of his musings a second later though, by a loud "hoot" from across the room. He spun on his heel and was relieved for the second time in a minute when he saw his snowy owl, Hedwig, staring at him from the windowsill.

"Hedwig." Harry said, in a slightly breathless voice, as he made his way over to the owl. "You had me worried, you've been gone for ages."

The owl just hooted indignantly as if to say,

"You actually thought anything could endanger me?"

Harry just smirked at his owl's antics before striding across the room to retrieve the letter meant for Dumbledore.

"Hedwig, I know you just got back, but do you think you're up for a journey?"

Her response was a wide-eyed stare, followed by a happy sounding hoot. Harry took this to mean "yes", and smiled before securing the letter to her leg. "I need you to take this to Dumbledore as fast as you can. Can you do that?"

She bobbed her head once, almost like a nod, and flew out the open window. With that out of the way, Harry flopped down onto his bed before sinking into thought.

So far, his summer had been a complete waste. He had spent about three weeks at the Dursleys up until now. It had been slightly more bearable this year. Harry knew the reasoning for this, for the Dursley's feared his godfather, and still viewed him as a psychopathic mass murderer, and that he was still alive. Harry had not bothered to correct them on either front.

Though it hurt to see Sirius looked at in such unjustified terror, when it came down to it, it served his purposes. He had not been physically harmed once this summer, which was a new record. He had been practically starved, but that wasn't really new. Aside from that, his treatment had been quite good. His list of chores, though still unreasonable, was far shorter than what he had become accustomed to over the course of his years living with them.

And then his mind came to the night before. The vivid dream, or vision, or whatever it had been. Then something else caught his attention, another memory from the night before.

It had been odd. He had been panicked and confused, with his thoughts racing around his mind at a million miles an hour. He hadn't had more than a couple hours of sleep all summer, though this was nothing new for him. However, this summer may have been the worst couple months of his life in that regard.

Despite him being nothing short of dead on his feet, he had given up on sleep after that. His mind would not rest, his heart rate would not slow, he couldn't calm down, and then it had happened, something he could not explain. All of a sudden, a wave of calm had washed over him. It had hit him like a speeding car on the freeway. His limbs had relaxed, his mind had gone blank, and then he had woken up.

He did not understand how it could have happened. He knew for sure that whatever happened was not of his creation. Something, or someone, had intervened. But that was impossible, no one else was near enough to him to cast magic, and he hadn't been near a potion in nearly a month, and he was sure whatever happened had to have been magic of some sorts. It was the only explanation that made any logical sense.

The mystery baffled Harry, he hated not knowing, especially when it came to magic. He searched his brain for anything he knew of magic like this, but could find nothing. He let out a defeated sigh before picking up his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and opening it to the "sports section", where he began reading over the scores for the World Cup.

His best friend, Ron Weasley, had said that his dad may be able to get them tickets; however, it was three weeks into the summer,and he still hadn't heard an update on the World Cup from Ron. He had exchanged a couple letters back and forth with Ron, but no more than that.

He had traded more letters with Hermione, simply because she probably had more free time on her hands than Ron, and because unlike his red headed friend, she did not view writing for the sake of writing as a sin punishable by death.

As soon as this thought crossed his mind, a grey, feathered bullet, streaked through the open window, missed him by an inch, and smacked hard into the opposite wall.

"Bloody hell!", Harry cursed out, jumping about four feet into the air. Ron's family owl had just shot through the open window and smacked headlong into the opposite wall. Harry felt bad for his friend having to use an old, beaten up owl, because his parents couldn't afford him a proper owl. Not that it was their fault, but the only pet Ron ever had was Scabbers, or as Harry later found out, Peter Pettigrew.

Peter Pettigrew... the name caused anger to flare inside of him, anger the likes of which he had never felt before.

The Wizarding World at large, believed the nonsense that Sirius Black, Harry's godfather and the best friend of his father, had been the secret keeper for the Potters. And after the Fidelius Charm had been broken, and the Potters, except Harry, had been murdered, the whole Wizarding World believed that Sirius Black had sold out the Potters to Voldemort.

Harry himself had believed this for a while, but then he had been let in on a horrifying truth.

The world had been wrong.

Sirius Black was not the secret keeper. He was nothing more than a diversion, the obvious choice. He had been the decoy, and he had been meant to garner the attention of Lord Voldemort while in reality, Peter Pettigrew, the small, squat, far less gifted friend of the Potters had been given the task of being secret keeper for one simple reason.

He would never be suspected.

The plan had backfired though, and it had backfired in the worst way imaginable. Pettigrew willingly fled to the side of Voldemort and sold out his best friends to a sociopathic mass murderer.

Harry tried to control his emotions when he thought of Pettigrew, but he just saw red. He had never felt anger like this. Anger for the death of his parents, anger for the framing of Sirius, and anger at the events of last year. Harry had fought a hundred Dementors away from Sirius, but when he came to get him it was too late. Blank eyes stared up at him. The Dementor had kissed Sirius before Harry had fought them off. His godfather, the closest thing he had ever had to a true family, was gone.

Now, pain washed over him, pain like nothing he had ever experienced. He couldn't breathe as binds seemed to press in on his chest. He had seen those lifeless eyes of his godfather many times in his nightmares, but it did nothing to numb the pain, and the startling realization that Harry's only one true hope at a family, at love, had been ripped away from him by Pettigrew.

Harry hated Voldemort with a passion, but he hated Pettigrew more; he was sure of it. If Harry saw Pettigrew again, he would not make the same mistake he had made a few weeks earlier. He would not spare him this time; the bastard would not be walking out of that meeting alive.

Just as emotions were about to swallow him, just as he was sure he was going to crack and some horrendous act of accidental magic would have been performed, he felt it again. Another wave of emotion that he was sure was not his own. Calm, and something else, something Harry had never felt. The only thing he could compare it to was the feeling he had felt while at the Burrow in the summer between first and second year. It felt nothing like this, but it was as close as he had ever come.

Something was wrong; how on earth was this happening? How were his emotions being influenced?

Despite his slight worry over the matter, he smiled contentedly. The feelings inside of him were strong, and easily overwhelmed his own.

'Whoever, or whatever, is doing this, thank you.'

* * *

To many, Albus Dumbledore was considered the greatest sorcerer since Merlin. He was revered as a godlike figure among his peers. So, it would probably surprise many people to see him in such an ordinary position, as he was today.

Currently, the defeater of Grindelwald was sitting in his office at Hogwarts reading over proposals for the next Wizengamot meeting. Oh, the joys of being Chief Warlock.

Albus was having a fairly boring summer. He would have liked this to be the summer where Sirius Black was freed, but Fudge refused to see reason, and even if he had, Sirius was not with them anymore.

This, Cornelius's incompetence, was a trend that Albus seriously hoped did not continue. If Sybil's prophecy at the end of last year had been true, then Tom's second reign of terror may not be very far in the future.

The ancient wizard almost shuddered at the thought.

Last time, they had gotten lucky, to put it kindly. By all accounts, Tom Riddle should've won the war. For eleven years, Tom, now going by the moniker of Lord Voldemort, had raised hell across Magical Britain. They had been unprepared at the beginning of that war, and he knew that was a large factor in the ease in which Tom gained momentum. But it had not been the only reason.

The philosophies that Tom's revolution centered around were unfortunately widely accepted, and embraced by a large portion of the population. Even more unfortunate, was the fact that plenty still believed in these ideologies. And many of those who flanked around Tom like sheep to a shepherd were still walking free, and Dumbledore had no doubts that were the dark days to return, Tom would have no problem gaining allies once more.

Albus knew that to prevent Tom from gaining the support and momentum he had last time, he would need all the help he could get. Yet he feared Cornelius would not be so cooperative.

The wildcard in the equation was fear. People feared the very name Lord Voldemort. Cornelius Fudge was one of those who feared the name above most others.

If Tom did return, Albus was not sure that Cornelius could conquer his fear and do what was right for Magical Britain.

There was also another flaw with Cornelius; he was obsessed with his position. If he felt that taking drastic action had the potential to hurt his image, he would not take it.

If he could somehow get Cornelius to see sense, then maybe the threat could be minimalized. After all, Tom would be far weaker without his most loyal and powerful followers, and this time, perhaps he would have to expose himself to the open more than the last.

But then there was the problem of the man, or the monster, himself.

Tom Riddle was, without a doubt, the most gifted student Albus Dumbledore had ever taught. He was, for lack of a better term, a prodigy among prodigies. The control he had over his magic, even as a young child, was unprecedented, and when he got to Hogwarts, his talent was proven.

Tom held many of the school records in the end-of-year exams as well as OWLs and N.E.W.T.S. At the age of 15, that boy could do things with a wand that most full-grown witches and wizards would never even dream of. So, yes, his skill was virtually unmatched and his power and spell bank were completely unheard of.

There were many comparisons made between Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle. Albus knew that as far as raw magical power went, Tom had him bested easily; however, the Elder Wand could perhaps make up the deficit. His knowledge of dark, powerful magic though, Albus knew no one would ever match that. In a fight, Tom Riddle knew more ways to kill you than Albus could even fathom. He could probably kill every student at Hogwarts, one by one, and use a different, fatal curse on each.

The fact that facing that monster head-on was what Albus viewed as their best hope was a scary prospect for Magical Britain.

Yes, Albus Dumbledore, as well as the rest of the country, needed Cornelius Fudge to perform far better in this worst case scenario, than he had at the end of last year when presented with evidence regarding the innocence of Sirius Black.

Hopefully Sybil was wrong, or, at the very least, her prophecy would not take effect nearly as fast as the last one had, the one involving Harry and Tom.

As if the thought of his name had willed it to happen, an owl flew into the headmasters office, an owl that the old sorcerer recognized as belonging to the very same "child of prophecy".

Albus took the letter from Hedwig, and with a wave of his wand, conjured an owl treat for the grateful bird.

Albus just smiled, another perk of the Elder Wand. Normally, conjuring food of any sort was impossible.

His smile would not last long though, and it quickly fell as he read Harry's letter, the legendary twinkle receding from the old man's eyes.

The old wizard read carefully through Harry's letter, and with a frown he read it again. When he had finished for the second time, he let out a long, tired sigh.

From his perch, the ethereal phoenix let out a sad note that tugged at Albus Dumbledore's very heartstrings.

"I know, my friend, dark times are on the horizon."

Harry's letter had confirmed his worst suspicions, and in the old man's mind, it confirmed that Sybill Trelawney's second prophecy would not remain idle for long. Peter Pettigrew had indeed been the servant mentioned in the prophecy, he had aided his master, and it seemed that somehow, he had started Tom on the road to his return.

The fact that Tom had a physical form was what truly scared Albus. Regaining a physical form was probably the most difficult obstacle for Tom to overcome. Now that that obstacle had been overcome Albus viewed it more as a certainty that Tom would not only return, but return soon.

"It is too soon." Albus murmured to himself. "Harry is not ready, and it can not be done any other way."

Fawkes let out another heartbreaking note with a look towards his master.

"No my friend, there is no other way, the boy must fulfill his destiny, and we shall go from there."

Albus Dumbledore had pieced together Tom's horcruxes a long time ago, and he knew that Harry Potter's famous lighting bolt scar was, ,n reality, an accidental horcrux. In order for Voldemort to be defeated once and for all, Harry needed to die.

Well… maybe.

Harry had to be hit with the killing curse. There was one scenario in which Albus Dumbledore could possibly see Harry surviving, but that scared him. Dumbledore did not know the details, but he knew that for Tom to return to a human body, it would require some kind of ritual. If that ritual used Harry's blood, then the boy may survive. Or, if Tom "killed" Harry before his seventeenth birthday, then perhaps, but Dumbledore doubted he would have found and destroyed all of the horcruxes by then. And Harry should not die before that time.

He must be alive when Harry would be hit with the Killing Curse. The result would define the war. If Harry survived, the prophecy was incomplete, and Harry would have to face Voldemort. If Harry won, Tom would be gone for good, and if Tom won, he would truly be unstoppable for the time being.

If Harry died, then the prophecy would be fulfilled, which would mean that Harry did not have to be the one to finish Voldemort. If this happened, Albus knew what had to be done. If Harry truly died, Voldemort would be up to Albus to defeat, because he knew, in a fair fight, he was the only one with a chance at beating Tom. Just as it had been fifty years earlier, where he had been the only one with a chance of defeating Gellert.

Albus Dumbledore sighed. He hated that Harry Potter had to be played as a chess piece, but he saw no other way. The boy had to be hit with the Killing Curse, and Voldemort had to cast it. And that should happen when all of Tom's other horcruxes were destroyed, and Albus had to be alive at the time, in case the curse took Harry this time around, which was becoming more and more likely the more he thought about it.

He doubted the confrontation would happen before Harry's seventeenth birthday. And he was sure Tom would not be foolish enough to use Harry's blood in a ritual, because even he must know that there would be ramifications. But if Harry's vision was real, and Albus was positive that it was, then it appeared as if Voldemort did want Harry for something.

For a terrifying second, Albus thought about just sending Harry to Voldemort in the hope that Tom used his blood in the ritual, therefore guaranteeing Harry's survival.

But then he shook his head; far too much could go wrong, and he hated himself for treating the poor boy like a pawn.

And then, what if Harry did survive? If this happened, it would be up to Harry to defeat Tom. How was a boy, maybe a young man, by the time of the final battle, supposed to defeat the greatest dark wizard of the millennia? Harry was gifted, but it would still be a long shot. Harry had some of the highest end of year exam scores ever recorded in Defense Against The Dark Arts, and was at the top of his year in Charms and Transfiguration as well, but that would not be enough.

Albus just sighed. "He must be prepared just in case." He spoke aloud, in a thoughtful tone.

Fawkes sang yet another sad note. "I know, my friend, I know, he is so young, but it must happen, and he must be prepared in case it truly does come down to him against Tom. We must do everything in our power to assure our victory."

With that, Dumbledore pulled out his own piece of parchment, before writing down his reply and beckoning Hedwig towards him.

* * *

It had been three days since the dream, or vision, or whatever it had been. Harry had far too much spare time on his hands. This spare time allowed him to think constantly of the vision. This would often lead him into panic, or anger, or other negative thought patterns.

Sometimes though, the negative emotions would just vanish without a trace. Harry did not miss them, not by a long shot, but he did wonder what was happening. He had pondered writing Ron or Hermione, but he hadn't. They both had thought he was going mad when he had heard the basilisk in second year, so how would they react to this? He had also considered sending another letter to Dumbledore, but honestly, Harry had no problem with the occurrence, and something so trivial seemed unworthy of Dumbledore's time.

Harry had finished all of his homework early this year. Aside from keeping up with the Quidditch World Cup via the _Daily Prophet_ , Harry didn't really do much at all. He was growing edgy though, and his uncle had become far more snappy, so he figured that the fear of Sirius was wearing off. Harry would have to watch his P's and Q's around his uncle from now on. He shivered at the very thought, and then it happened again.

Calm washed over him yet again, and where dread and fear had been moments earlier, there was nothing. Harry sighed, half in frustration, half in contentment, until his owl made her entrance.

Harry smiled. For one, Hedwig was always a welcome sight. For two, she had, what Harry assumed, was Dumbledore's reply clamped in her beak. And for three, in memory of the last time an owl had entered. Ron's owl had come with the message that his father, Arthur Weasley, had indeed managed to procure top notch tickets to the Quidditch World Cup, and that he would be attending with them.

Harry quickly made his way over to Hedwig and took the letter.

It was written in the tall, loopy writing that Harry had seen once before. The writing that he knew belonged to Albus Dumbledore.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Thank you for the wishes in regards to my summer. It has been quite enjoyable, but the important summer is yours._

 _I have thought about what you have told me. Firstly, I unfortunately have to confirm your suspicions. Though it is only a guess on my part, I believe, like yourself, that what you saw in your sleep was no ordinary dream. I believe you witnessed the muggle man's murder at the hands of Lord Voldemort as it happened._

 _This also leads me to believe that the conversation you overheard was also true._

 _There were a few disturbing portions of the dream, there was of course Voldemort's mystery plan, and the fact that you seemed to be a key component of said plan. To me though, the most concerning thing is that Voldemort has gained a physical form, and has enough magical power to cast the Killing Curse. This should have been the most difficult step to him regaining a body. I implore you to act carefully this school year, for if Voldemort truly is on the rise, it is imperative that you stay safe. Both for your own safety, and as to not allow Lord Voldemort to use you in whichever way he intends._

 _Though the news of you witnessing Voldemort's actions is quite disturbing, it is not entirely surprising. I have told you before that the curse that failed to take your life forged a deeply powerful magical connection between yourself and Voldemort._

 _I am of the belief that it is this connection that allows you to see into Lord Voldemort's activities. As Voldemort grows more powerful, there is a high chance that these visions will increase in regularity. If this happens, I implore you to come see me immediately if you are at school, and if not at Hogwarts, please owl me at once._

 _Now, onto a more happy matter for yourself. Seeing as Voldemort has seemingly chosen not to act until at the earliest, the aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup, I see no reason you should be confined to your Aunt and Uncle's home any longer than you have to be. I am aware that you plan to attend the World Cup with your friend Ronald and his family, so as such, I have asked if Arthur would be agreeable in regards to fetching you early, and I am pleased to say he was most delighted to comply_.

 _So be ready and packed by Sunday, three days from today, and Arthur will be there to retrieve you._

 _I do hope you enjoy the rest of your summer and the Quidditch World Cup in particular. It truly is a spectacle unrivalled in our world, and the fact that we have the honour to play host only makes it all the more exciting._

 _I look forward to seeing you on the first of September for the start of a most exciting year at Hogwarts!_

 _Your truly,_

 _Albus Dumbledore_

Harry stared slack jawed at the parchment, in particular, the bit about Mr. Weasley coming to fetch him in three days, and as the sudden realization hit him, he could not stop a smile from breaking out on his face.

He would be free, done with the Dursley's for an entire year. He would avoid that beating after all, and he was going to the Burrow, the closest thing, aside from Hogwarts, that Harry had ever had to a home.

Harry threw back his head and let out a scream of pure ecstasy, thanking his lucky stars the Dursleys were currently out shopping, for he did not think he could have prevented himself from acting on his euphoria.

His smile only grew with one more thought. 'Whatever, or whoever you are, please, do not take this feeling away.'

* * *

Gabrielle Delacour had had a brilliant summer thus far. Fleur's seventeenth birthday had truly been a sight. The ballroom at Château Delecour had been packed with people. From friends of both Gabrielle and Fleur, to family, both human and Veela alike, to prominent leaders from both the French Ministry of Magic, as well as the Veela nation had attended the party.

Her parents, as usual, had not spared any expense on her sister nor the party.

Fleur had been spoiled rotten, and the party had been one of the most fun, and most extravagant in Gabrielle's memory.

She had also enjoyed the summer in general. Her family owned many homes and manors. Her favourite though, was Château Delecour. It was their summer home, or more appropriately, manor. It was a massive beachside property right on the coast of Southern France. The property was beautiful, and Gabrielle loved the water with a passion. She had always been a gifted swimmer. She also enjoyed lazing around on the beach, sometimes with her sister, and sometimes with her friends, most notably, Sophie and Josephine, Gabrielle's two closest friends who had spent much of the summer at the beachside paradise of a property.

Sometimes though, Gabrielle would just lay on the beach alone. Often in nothing more than a bikini and some questionable shorts. Gabrielle loved the feeling; it was like bliss. Her lack of clothes was not for any foolish reason like to be rebellious, or anything like that. In fact her mother embraced it as much as she did, as she, being Veela, understood. Even Fleur, who by all accounts was no Veela, understood, and joined in on occasion.

Even though, unlike her sister, Gabrielle could switch off her allure at will, she still received a scary amount of attention. Even without the allure, Veela had a sort of natural pull, not enough to be noticeable, but enough to make everyone in the surrounding area look at them. And once males looked at her, they usually did not take their eyes off of her.

Gabrielle looked similar to her sister, but was not identical. She was a couple of inches taller than Fleur, thanks to her Veela heritage. She wasn't a huge fan of this particular fact. Fleur was tall enough as it was, but thanks to Gabrielle's Veela traits, she stood at about 5' 11" tall, taller than most males. Though she wasn't freakishly tall, it was another annoying Veela trait. It, along with the natural pul, was meant to draw attention to the Veela.

Anyways, she was tall, and her skin was fair and flawless. She was nowhere near dark, but her skin was a shade darker than her sister's pale complexion, giving her a slightly tanned look. She had long, elegant legs, and a full, but not exaggerated figure. Her hair was the same silvery blonde as her sisters, and like Fleur's, it fell to her waist. Her face had the same angelic look as her sister, with a few slight differences. Her face was slightly thinner, her nose just a pinch smaller, and her lips more full. Her eyes were the biggest difference. Fleur had deep, ocean blue eyes. Gabrielle's eyes were also blue, for that was guaranteed by her Veela blood, but they were lighter than her sister's. They were a pale blue colour. Ultra blue, would be an accurate description.

Needless to say, Gabrielle drew a lot of attention, so being able to lay on the beach in borderline scandalous clothing, and to not have a worry about being ogled, or being on guard for a guy trying his luck was bliss. It was freedom.

This was one of those days. Gabrielle lay out on a rock in the water, just tanning, enjoying the sun, and reflecting on her summer, while thinking with a smirk of one perk of being a Veela — no sunburns. Sophie had actually received quite a nasty one by doing the same thing Gabrielle was doing now, but not Gabrielle. Her blood guaranteed perfect skin. She figured that her skin being semi-immune to fire also may have had something to do with it.

Reflecting on her summer though, she came to the mysterious boy. The boy seemed borderline depressed. Since the beginning of July, Gabrielle had felt so many negative emotions, and over the past number of days, the number of overwhelming negative emotions was seemingly a constant flow. She had, for her part, done her best to ease most of them. She still didn't really know why, but at this point, she figured perhaps pity. How sad must one's life be, to feel furious, vengeful, worried, and even afraid all in a few days, with some of them being experienced multiple times everyday?

At this moment, she was actually about to try to focus on the bond and read him. Even when he wasn't feeling strong emotions, she could still read them if she focused. Not his thoughts or anything like that, just emotions and feelings.

She didn't need to this time though. She was struck with one of the strongest waves of emotion yet, but this time, it was the opposite of normal. The best way for Gabrielle to describe it would have been euphoria. There was relief, disbelief, excitement, and joyful happiness all at once.

She smiled at this, happy that her mate had at least something to make him happy.

"Gabrielle!" Gabrielle's eyes opened as she spotted her sister on the shore. She groaned when she saw Fleur gesturing for her to follow.

'Damn you sister.' she thought to herself, bud she begrudgingly made her way onto the sore, splashing rather spitefully at her sister as she did so.

" _Drama queen."_ muttered Fleur under her breath.

" _Brat."_ responded Gabrielle teasingly. Fleur made to shove her, but Gabrielle grabbed her wrist and was about to throw her sister backwards over her shoulder, but at the last moment, she pulled her back. Veela did have some perks. A slight increase in physical strength was one of them. Gabrielle had always theorized that it was to deal with overzealous boys, but that complete heacanon on her part. " _Ready?"_ asked Gabrielle with a sweet smile.

" _Show off."_ Fleur responded as they began to make their way inside.

" _So, why did you feel the need to interrupt my relaxing late afternoon?"_ asked Gabrielle, with one perfect eyebrow raised.

" _I did not."_ Fleur replied, somewhat haughtily, " _Papa felt the need to interrupt my afternoon by telling me to go interrupt your afternoon by bringing you inside."_

" _I see."_ commented Gabrielle. She would have commented on Fleur's slightly defensive tone, but she knew she meant nothing by it.

When they eventually made their way into the manor, Fleur led her younger sister into the sitting room, where her mother and father were seated on one couch.

" _My darlings,"_ spoke her father, " _take a seat_ , _I have some exciting news_. _Gabrielle my love, how has your day been thus far? I have not seen you all day."_

" _It has been great, Papa, I have mainly just spent it relaxing out on the water."_

" _It sounds quite relaxing indeed."_ her mother, Apolline, commented

" _Well my dears,"_ spoke her father once more, a broad, goofy grin, breaking out on his face. " _I had told you that I wanted to acquire tickets for the Quidditch World Cup, non?"_

Both girls nodded, some excitement creeping into both of them _._

" _Well, it turns out it was easier than I had ever imagined."_

Gabrielle, a casual Quidditch fan beamed at her father and was going to race over to embrace him when Fleur spoke.

" _What do you mean easier than you expected papa?"_

" _Well, our minister is ill and therefore can not attend, so, he gave us his tickets, we will be sitting in the minister's box. The best seat in the house, one might say."_

Gabrielle's jaw fell open as elation spread throughout her body. She focused on just a tiny bit of it and sent it across her bond. Just a trace amount, enough that her euphoria was not lessened, but just enough so he could hopefully feel it. She figured that with as much sadness as the boy had seemingly experienced, he could use just a taste of how she felt right now.

* * *

 **Authors Endnote:**

 **So, this is future me proofreading Luq's revisions again. Yikes, still in the part of the story where I for some reason decided to write in cliches, but oh well. There were some important bits to this chapter that will come up later. The Dumbledore scene in particular is one to note for future reference.**

 **So, what did you think, your first look inside the mind of Albus Dumbledore, and some more background on Gabrielle. We are still in the phase where I must post some building block chapters, your feedback via reviews or PM's would be greatly appreciated.**

 **Please read and review.**

* * *

 **This chapter was revised on June 15th, 2020 to revise a horrific number of grammatical errors and hopefully make the chapter more readable.**


	3. Jokes and Freedom

Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling. Which means three things:

One, I should not be held to the standards of a genius such as herself.

Two, I do not own Harry Potter.

Three, as a result of the second, I do not make any money from this, or any other Harry Potter story I write.

Authors Note 1

Thank you guys for the support so far, the number of follows in particular has pleasantly surprised me. I know there isn't a lot of quality online in regards to this pairing, so I hope you guys continue to enjoy the story.

Authors Note 2

A bit of a filler chapter here, and I apologize for that, but it must be done. Also, probably the shortest chapter I'll write in this story but I needed a transition.

Authors Note 3

Thank you very much to my bettas JZuCuadra and James Marx for their work on this story.

Chapter 3 Jokes and Freedom.

Sunday had come dreadfully slow Harry. The days inside number four Privet Drive had dragged on. He had only barely avoided his uncles ire not once, but twice in the past two days. Needless to say, there was no time like the present to get out of his would be prison.

Currently, Harry was waiting eagerly in his room. The last time Hedwig had returned, he had told her to simply fly to The Burrow, with the promise that he would meet her there soon. The owl had just hooted her ascent and flew off without so much as a moment's hesitation.

Aside from Hedwig, Harry had all of his possessions packed into a trunk that was currently lying closed in front of him. Harry was greatly looking forward to leaving, but he feared his uncle's reaction, he had, of course informed Vernon that he would be leaving at about noon on Sunday. His uncle had accepted that fact easily enough, the thing that scared him though is how his uncle would react to the presence of a wizard in his home. Especially Arthur Weasley. Arthur was a good man, but he was positively obsessed with muggles, and their working. Harry was worried Arthur would try to break down every little muggle contraption, and if that happened, Harry winced at the mere thought.

There was also the fact of how resistant the Dursleys were to magic. The last time they had been in the presence of anyone magical aside from Harry, their precious Dudley had had his rear end transfigured into a tail. Mix that with the fact that Harry had no idea how Mr. Weasley was planning on arriving at Privet Drive, and this could make for a very interesting meeting.

Harry had just decided it would be best if he went downstairs to wait for Mr. Weasley, seeing as it was now, to his shock and embarrassment, 5 after 12.

Before Harry could act on that impulse though, a loud rushing noise could be heard from downstairs followed by uncle Vernon's shout of.

"What in the bloody hell!"

Harry, piecing two and two together realized that Mr. Weasley had tried flue powder, and flowed directly into an electrical fire. Trying to hide an amused smirk Harry rushed downstairs as fast as he could, quickly bursting into the sitting room with the fireplace.

"BOY! Thundered Vernon once he saw Harry. "What is the meaning of this?"

Before the large man could lash out at Harry a voice spoke from within the contained fire.

"Harry? Harry? Is that you?"

"Yes Mr. Weasley I'm here. The fireplace is blocked off, you'll have to go back and just apparate."

"Damn." Harry head Arthur swear from the fire and then. "OUCH, George go back, it's blocked I'll have to apparate and.. OUCH Fred not you to, go back and tell Ron to, OW!"

Harry tried, and only partially succeeded in stifling a laugh of pure mirth. Harry hadn't known that all of the Weasley boys, minus Percy by the sounds of it, were planning on making an appearance. Harry could only imagine how much Mr. Weasley was currently regretting that decision.

"What the hell do they have it blocked off for." Harry heard the voice of his best friend, Ron Weasley speak from the fire.

"Get out!" Vernon screamed, "Leave my fireplace this instant the lot of you!"

"Dad, I don't really think we can get back." Harry heard one of the twins say. "We don't have flu powder, and the powder is wearing off, it's getting hot in here." Harry could hear a bit of panic in the latter part of the twins statement.

"Damn, alright, Harry stand back, we're coming through."

"You will do no such thing and.." Uncle Vernon's rant was caught off by a cry of.

"Reducto!" Harry actually winced, why had Mr. Weasley chosen such an overpower spell, a bludgeoning curse to make a hole probably would have done the trick, or just carving out a whole with Diffindo.

As a result of his spell selection though, the fireplace was blown apart and debris flew in every direction. A large piece of the fireplace wall flew straight through the center of the TV screen, a window was smashed, and soot was thrown in every direction.

Aunt Petunia screamed at the state of her normally spotless home. Dudes whimpered while scampering out of the room, and Vernon stood in the center of it all, a dumbstruck look on his ever purpling face.

His expression finally had a recipient though as it changed to fury at the new site. Four red haired males had stepped from the smouldering remains of the fireplace.

The first was tall and thin with balding hair, but what was left of it was, as Weasley tradition seemingly demanded, as red as ever. This man, Mr. Weasley, was wearing glasses, dusting off his robes, and pocketing his wand. Which, in Harry's opinion was a very bad idea if the look on his uncles face was anything to go off of, and it usually was a pretty good indicator as to when one may need weapons on hand.

The other three were unmistakably his sons. Fred and George, average height, stocked builds, flaming red hair, and looking as identical to each other as the other. Both with matching looks of curiosity as they eyed the muggle home around them.

The other was taller, and thinner, with long, lanky limbs, and the same flaming red hair. This was Harry's best friend Ron Weasley. He too seemed to share the twins look of curiosity, that was until he saw Harry and his face split into a broad smile.

The site of the four of them, Ron in particular was enough to warm Harry's heart, and for a minute he forgot about his troubles, he forgot about his former godfather, he forgot about Voldemort, he even forgot about the walrus of a man standing not ten feet from him who looked like he would commit murder if he ever gained control of his seemingly shocked limbs.

Ron's smile was contagious, Harry was about to return it when the walrus in question regained control of himself.

"WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING? I GIVE YOU IDIOTS ONE CHANCE TO ENTER MY HOME, TO CHANGE MY MIND, AND YOU DO THIS!" He gestured at the pile of rubble that was, formerly, a very expensive fireplace, and then his sweeping hand gesture continued to the room around them.

Harry actually winced, he had not seen his uncle like this in a long time. He had to resist the natural urge to flee, but as it was, he flinched away from his uncle at his screaming quite noticeably. Usually when his uncle had screamed like that, it meant Harry would be waking up black and blue in his cupboard for the next week. Fortunately, no one caught the motion on Harry's part seeing as his uncle was, for all of his flaws, quite an effective distraction.

Mr. Weasley looked apologetic, and then thoughtful, and then, all of a sudden a broad grin spread across his face.

"Not to worry, not to worry." He said, in a much too cheerful voice for the situation at hand. "This is easy enough, one quick spell and…"

"PUT IT AWAY!" Roared Vernon Dursley, advancing on Mr. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley, being the logical man he was did nothing of the sort, if he had, Harry suspected he would have been in a far more serious fight than the one he had had with Lucius Malfoy two years prior.

"But I can fix it. It really is quite a simple spell, one quick swish and…"

"I WILL NOT ALLOW MAGIC IN THIS HOUSE! OUT! OUT! OUT WITH THE LOT OF YOU, THE BOY CAN GET HIS TRUNK AND THEN OUT!"

Harry took the hint and rushed up to his room, Ron, Fred and George trailing behind him.

"Blimey"

"He"

"Really"

"Is"

"Something"

"Isn't he?"

Asked the twins in their typical back and forward way of speaking.

"Yes." Muttered Harry darkly. "He sure is."

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted something, but when he turned he was gone.

"Say Harry?" Asked one twin.

"Would you mind?" Asked the other.

"If we went to help dad convince your uncle?" Said the first.

"I mean." Cut back in the second.

"Surely you and Ronikins can get the big bad trunk on your own can't you?" Mocked the first.

Ron snorted and Harry actually smiled, if almost felt foreign to him, he hadn't done that in weeks.

"Sure, go for it. If the trunk tries anything to sinister we'll know who to call."

With two mock salutes, they were off.

Harry and Ron didn't take overly long to get the trunk. Harry had had it packed long in advance, it was just a matter of dragging the damn thing down the stairs, which was, admittedly, a bit of a task.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Harry marveled at the fact that his uncles tirade seemed to have ended, that was until Harry heard a horrible, choking, spluttering sound and saw his cousin stagger into the room where Mr. Weasley, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and presumably the twins were waiting.

With a raised eyebrow Harry motioned for Ron to help him get the trunk into the room. Just as they entered all hell broke loose.

Dudley was on all fours, seemingly choking on a massive, pink, something protruding from his mouth. Aunt Petunia was on her knees beside him, sobbing as she tried to pull the overlarge, something out of his mouth, and it seemed to only increase the pain.

And then it clicked and Harry had to try hard not to laugh. The pink thing, that was now sticking out of Dudley's mouth and about four feet in front of him, and probably weighed two thirds as much as Harry did, was his tongue.

Harry scanned the room and immediately his eyes fell on the other three Weasleys.

Mr. Weasley was glaring at his sons with the harshest look he had ever seen on the mans face. Meanwhile the twins seemed to be doing their best to look ashamed. But when Mr. Weasley stepped forward, presumably to fix whatever his sons had done to Dudley, Harry saw Fred whisper something to George as the latter took out what seemed to be a notebook. Harry mentally banked that bit of information and made a point to ask the twins later on if they made it out of this in one piece.

At the site of Mr. Weasley advancing on Dudley, wand drawn, Uncle Vernon let out a cry like a wounded animal as he grabbed a vase and through it at Mr. Weasley's head, with deadly power. Mr. Weasley easily batted it away with a flick of his wand but he looked gobsmacked.

"Really." He tried. "I can help, I promise I can, my sons you see, they're such trouble makers, pranksters you know, and they must have slipped him something but, it's an easy fix, a simple counter, it looks like an engorgement charm, one wave of my wand, one word and he'll be good as new I promise. Please let me help him?"

But his pleas were falling on deaf ears. Now, Uncle Vernon was throwing everything within arms reach at the man. In fact, some of the things he was throwing were nowhere near within his arms reach.

"Ok, ok." Spat Mr. Weasley. "Protego." Harry recognized the shield charm, and all of a sudden everything Vernon Dursley hurled at Arthur Weasley seemed to hit an invisible barrier and fall to the floor without a sound a few feet in front of it's target.

"Reparo." Said Arthur, aiming his wand at the destroyed fireplace. Instantly, the damage undid itself, and the fireplace stood their once more.

"Fred, George, Ron, Harry, take the flu powder in George's pocket and flue back to The Burrow, I'll deal with this."

Not needing any encouragement, the four boys all distributed the flu powder amongst themselves, making sure to give some to Mr. Weasley, before one by one stepping into the fire and saying the name of their destination.

Harry, flu powder in hand took one last, long look around hoping to find out how long Dudley's tongue was now. It seemed to be about 6 feet long now. With a smirk despite himself, Harry through the powder into the fire and stepped in.

"The Burrow!" He proclaimed in a voice that could only be described as triumphant. He could not be more happy as the flames roared, and he was swallowed whole by tall, green flames.

….

Harry had never been a fan of flu travel, and this was forcefully reminded to him as fireplaces spun past him at the speed of light. And then, all at once, it was over. He was forcefully launched from the fireplace, he hit the ground and rolled to his feet, quite impressed with his maneuver. He was greeted with applause.

Harry looked up and saw both Fred and George clapping, they were soon joined in their efforts by both Ron and Ginny.

"Points for style mate." Put in Fred with a lopsided grin.

Harry for his part gave a mock bow that made everyone laugh. It was at that moment Harry realized he was not alone with Ginny, Ron, and the twins.

There were two others. Both of them were clearly no longer school age, though neither of them looked any older than early 20's.

The first of them was built short and stocky, sort of like the twins. He was however, in far better shape than the twins. The muggle term would be jacked. Faint marks Harry recognized as those left behind by burns littered his arms and his hands appeared callused while he had a long scar down one side of his face.

The other man was taller and thinner, though he wasn't built lanky like Ron. Again, he appeared to be in great shape, he differed from the other though. While the first man resembled a weight lifter in physique, this man looked like an overall athlete. His flaming red hair was long and tied back in a ponytail and, to Harry's utter amazement he had a fang earring.

"Oh right." Said Ron stepping forward somewhat awkwardly as Harry inspected the two of them. "Sorry mate, Harry these are my older brothers, Bill." He indicated the man with the fanged earring who stood and closed the distance between himself and Harry. With a smile and a muttered introduction they shook hands.

Bill was nothing like he had expected. Harry knew from Ron that Bill had been head boy long before Percy. Harry supposed he had expected another Percy, nice enough, but pompous, overly polite and by the books. Though he couldn't claim to know Bill, he could promise he wasn't that. He almost seemed rebellious with his earring and long hair.

"And this is Charlie." Said Ron indicating his other brother. Charlie surprised Harry a bit as well though for different reasons. Harry had heard a good deal about Charlie Weasley, one of the best seekers Gryffindor had ever seen, he was not built for a seeker, someone of that physique would normally be pegged as a beater, though Harry supposed he could have put on the bulk in order to help him deal with the dragons that Harry knew Charlie worked with.

"Harry." Cut in Fred with a rather sadistic grin.

"How was your cousin." George continued the thought.

"Was he still having a fit?" Fred finished.

"What about his cousin?" Asked Ginny. Fred and George burst into laughter at the question and even Harry followed in their example, though his was far more restrained.

Their laugher didn't last long though as the fire roared to life once again and a very disheveled looking Mr. Weasley stepped out of the fireplace, looking far angrier than Harry had ever seen him.

"WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOU TWO THINKING?" He boomed, glaring at the twins who had the heart to look a tad bit ashamed. "I've spent my whole damn career dealing with this trash, wizards abusing muggles for their own gain, or fun, or whatever the hell it's for, and then you, my own flesh and blood go and do the same thing!"

"Was his tongue still growing?" Asked George boldly, genuine curiosity evident in both his expression and his posture.

"IT WAS ABOUT 8 FEET LONG BY THE TIME THEY LET ME SHRINK IT BACK DOWN TO SIZE!"

This sent everyone into another fit of laughter, Harry this time let his out at full blast.

"IT ISN'T FUNNY!" Thundered Arthur. "You can be charged with this boys! If I caught someone doing this I would suggest six months in Azkaban, and he COULD HAVE DIED!"

"We had to test it dad." Reasoned one of the twins.

"So we don't make a mistake later on." Added the other.

"TEST, TEST! Just wait until I tell your mother."

"Tell me what Arthur?" Arthur actually paled at the voice of his wife as did the twins as the owner of the voice stepped into the room.

Mrs. Weasley was a short, plump woman with a kind face. She was, perhaps, the kindest woman Harry knew, though more relevant to his situation, he knew she had a fiery temper which currently didn't bare well for the twins.

"Tell me what Arthur?" She asked again, her voice an octave higher this time.

Ron slid towards the stairs gesturing for Harry to follow, Harry did not need anymore incentive, this was an argument he did not want to be a part of.

They almost made it up to Ron's room before they could hear the screaming match begin.

Ron sighed as he pushed the door to his room open.

"They've been acting real weird this summer." Ron proclaimed as he flopped down on his Chudley Cannons bedspread.

"How so?" Asked Harry, taking a seat beside him.

"It's hard to explain really. They've just been, well… suspicious you know? They've been in their room for most of the summer, constantly there are these weird sounds like explosions and such. When mom well, really any of us try to ask them about it they shrug it off, move the conversation along, do anything except answer."

"So you think they're up to something?" Asked Harry, his curiosity peaked. He was sure it wouldn't have been normal, but whatever they had done to Dudley and caught his attention, and the way they had slipped away at the Dursleys seemed to match the exact behaviour his best friend was describing to him.

"Must be." Ron reasoned as he pulled out a chocolate frog, offering one to Harry as well, which the raven haired boy took graciously with a muttered thanks.

"What do you reckon their up to then?" Asked Harry.

"I dunno." Confessed Ron, mouth still full of chocolate. He swallowed loudly before continuing. "It's like I said isn't it? They've been real secretive like, none of us really know what the bloody hell their up to. What I wouldn't give to know though. Honestly mate, they've spent more time in their rooms just this summer working on Merlin knows what than they did the entire year last studying for O.W.L's and you know how important those are."

Harry nodded, as a top student and an overachiever yes, he knew exactly how important O.W.L's were.

Harry redoubled his resolve to ask the twins about it later as the shouting match seemed to come to an end judging by the sudden lack of Mrs. Weasley's voice filling the house.

Harry didn't have to wait long for his chance at that point. A few minutes later the door opened and Fred and George waked in hauling Harry's trunk in, huffing and puffing a bit from the effort of it.

"Here you are mate." Said George.

"Mom told us to bring you this." Said Fred. "Our immediate punishment for our wrong doing was physical labour."

"And honestly," Picked up George. "She has the nerve to lecture us about out methods I mean, how hypocritical."

"Anyways." Said Fred as him and his twin stepped towards the exit.

"We'll see you guys later."

As they left, Harry muttered something about the restroom and followed, catching up to them quickly enough.

"Gred, Forge!" Called Harry, choosing to refer to the twins by their nicknames. They spun on the spot and looked up at him seeing as they were a ways down the stairs.

"Ickle Harrikins." They responded in unison.

"About earlier with Dudley." As their faces turned to shame and then slight alarm and they rushed to apologize Harry held up his hand. "It doesn't bother me not in the least, he's a bullying git, and I think being the nail was good for him. But, what did you do? I mean you couldn't cast magic outside of school. And does it have anything to do with you guys hiding away in your room all summer? Ron said you've been acting right suspicious."

Harry said all of this in low tones, loud enough for the twins to hear him, but not loud enough for his voice to carry to anyone else.

"Damn." Spoke up the first as they started their usual ping pong game with words.

"We can see why you-know-who has so much trouble with you Harrikins."

"You really are a right little detective aren't you?"

"I mean, catching us red handed in half an hour."

"You did more in that time than Filch has done in three years."

Harry snorted at that last bit but his stare didn't waver. He seemed to be trying to wordlessly command them with his eyes to answer him.

"Ok, fine."

"We give."

"On one condition."

"Promise you'll keep your mouth shut."

"And that means to everyone, including our dear brother and your bushy haired friend."

Harry pulled out his wand, intending to swear an oath when they cut him off in sinc.

"Oi!"

Harry raised an eyebrow at them in question.

"We don't need a bloody oath, you're like a brother mate, your word will do for us."

Harry shrugged and pocketed his wand.

"Just making sure." He said.

It was their turn to stare intently at him. Harry smirked before continuing.

"You have my word. I will not speak a word of anything you are about to tell me, or anything you ever tell me to keep private to anyone unless I have your expressed permission to do so, or unless it somehow turns into a life or death situation."

"Trust him to make it noble somehow." Said George proudly, clasping Harry on the shoulder like a proud older brother may have done.

"Follow us."

They walked to a room in the Burrow that Harry had never entered though he figured it was their room. When the door opened though, Harry was flabbergasted.

The room barely resembled a room at all. There were two potions stations set up on either side of the room, and boxes and containers stroun everywhere, Harry could even make out stuff of some sort hidden under the bed.

"The secret is out." Said the first twin.

"This is the key to the secret." Added the second.

"Welcome to the gateway to our future."

"Welcome to the current headquarters of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes!"

Authors Endnote.

I know, a short chapter, and a bit filler but we have one of our first major canon diversions as Fred and George let Harry in on the secret very early in the plan, how will this affect their plans if at all?

Next chapter will be the trip to the World Cup, and probably the World Cup itself. I promise it will be more eventful than this, in fact something very important will happen, you will have to read to find out.

Please review the chapter and tell me how I did, also, follow and favourite if you want to keep up with me, or the story.

Quick disclaimer, I will be gone for about ten days to a training camp out of the country, so I don't know how much I'll be able to write. I will do my best to get two more chapters pre written for both this story and my other so you guys have one chapter per week for both stories, but no promises.

Thank you to JZuCuadra for his work on this chapter. And an extra shoutout to James Marx who has not only edited as well, but he has actually dealt with the initial proofread for me so I have more time to prewrite chapters, so if I do mange to get some pre written, you guys can thank James.

With all of that out of the way, thank you guys for reading and enjoy your day. ACI100 out!


	4. Meetings and Mock Matches

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling, I do not own Harry Potter. Ya da, ya da ya da, all the usual disclaimers.**

 **Authors Note 1**

 **I apologize for the LONG wait. I really wanted to get chapters pre written before my training camp, but I had to pre do a bunch of school work and I just didn't have time. While I was there, I wanted to write, but I had little to no Internet connection. I will try to get two of these up this week to make up for it, but no promises, you will get one a week from now on out though.**

 **Authors Note 2**

 **Please review this chapter. As always, feedback is always appreciated. Follows and favorites are great as well!**

 **Authors Note 3**

 **Thank you to my betas JZuCuadra and James Marx for their work on this story.**

 **"Speach"**

 **'Internal dialogue'**

 **French**

* * *

 **Chapter 4 Meetings and Mock Matches.**

The weeks preceding Harry's arrival at The Burrow were some of the happiest in his life. Harry had loved the home in his second year, and he loved it just as much now.

He played Quidditch with Ron as well as Fred and George when they weren't experimenting with their products out in the orchard. Charlie also joined in from time to time.

When Harry had joined the house team in his first year, the name Charlie Weasley came up quite a bit. He had been one of the best seekers in the schools recent history, with many saying he could have even played professionally, some, Oliver Wood included, said that had Charlie gone the route of professional Quidditch, he would have played for England.

Charlie was good, no doubt about it. Easily the best seeker Harry had played against. They didn't have a snitch, so they couldn't really compare, but Harry thought he outflow the man, a feeling Charlie shared in, saying Harry was the best non professional player he had ever seen.

When Harry wasn't playing Quidditch, he was playing wizards chess, or gobstones, or exploding snap with Ron, or on the rare occasions he could slip away from his best friend without drawing any suspicion, in the bedroom belonging to the twins. Sometimes they would just play games, but the vast majority of the time they spent either discussing, or experimenting with their products.

A lot of it had to do with potions. Harry was no prodigy, but he was extremely good. He usually finished third in his year behind Daphne Greengrass, who was actually a prodigy in the subject, and his other best friend Hermione Granger. Hermione said that Harry was actually better than her in the subject and the only reason he didn't do better than her was their potions professor, Severus Snape, who had hated Harry with a burning passion from the very moment he had set eyes upon him in Harry's first year. Silently, Harry agreed with Hermione. He felt that she probably had the slight edge in the theoretical portion of the subject, but Harry almost always outbrewed her in the practical lessons, and usually outperformed her in the end of year exams.

As a result of this talent, Harry was quite useful to the twins. They were actually clever, far smarter than the general populace of Hogwarts gave them credit for. Though they admitted charms were more their area of expertise. So, Harry was a great help. He even helped them perfect one or two of their candies.

Most of the edible products had their effects linked to potions, and the effects of the used ingredients. Most of the other items had to do with charms. Harry had always been great in that subject. Though Hermione competed with him in it, he was clearly the best in their year. The twins were also very good in the subject, so they made quite a bit of progress.

A couple of weeks after Harry had arrived at The Burrow, Hermione made her arrival.

Ron had been thoroughly put off when one of the first things out of the bushy haired witch was a demand that Ron did his summer homework.

Harry just smiled smugly at this, for one thing, he had bet Ron that this exact thing would happen, and for two, he had finished his within the first week of the break, and was fairly certain he managed O's in most of it, with the exception of History of Magic, Astronomy, and Divination. He knew his potions was an O level paper, but he was unsure if Snape would give him the mark he deserved, a dilemma Harry had learned to live with over the past three years at Hogwarts.

As much as Harry loved, enjoyed, and cherished every second he spent at The Burrow, and he truly did, the morning they would leave for the Quidditch World Cup could not come fast enough for him. He loved Quidditch with a passion, not only was he good at it, he enjoyed watching it, and even kept up with the English/Irish league. In his opinion, there was no finer sport imaginable, not in the wizard, or muggle world. Nothing gave him the same rush that Quidditch did. The mere thought of a good game, and the wind whipping his hair back made his heart speed up. As a result of his passion for the game, he was beyond excited to watch it played, live and at the highest level. As a result of this, no matter how much fun Harry seemed to have at The Burrow the time seemed to drag on and on.

Harry did get to spend his birthday at The Burrow which was a wonderful experience where he experienced his first ever birthday party.

He had been allowed some people from Hogwarts, and Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan had been invited and had accepted. Fred and George's friend Lee Jordan was also their, along with an odd girl called Luna Lovegood, she was apparently close friends with Ginny, as well as her family being rather close with the Weasleys.

All the boys, plus Ginny played many massive games of Quidditch before convening with everyone else for some exploding snap, and a wizards chess tournament. The final game between Ron and Bill lasted for ages until finally Ron managed to get the win over his eldest brother which pleased him greatly. In Harry's experience the two traded victories back and forth and were quite evenly matched.

After that it was time for dinner, always a happy affair at The Burrow. The dinner featured all of Harry's favourites, and after the meal was completed Harry received his first ever birthday cake. It had red icing and had the Gryffindor emblem emblazoned upon the middle of the cake.

"It was my pleasure dear." Assured Mrs. Weasley after Harry thanked her for what must have been the dozenth time.

Presents were next up.

Harry received a sneakoscope from Hermione, it was almost like a magical variation of a burglar alarm, except instead of reacting to movement or blunt force, it was supposed to react to anyone with negative intentions towards the owner.

Ron had bought Harry a mountain of chocolate frogs and a Ballycastle Bats T shirt. The bats were Harry's favourite team in the Quidditch league, much to the dismay of Ron, the hardest of hardcore Chudley Cannons fans, though nowadays that probably wasn't saying much, since they had not won a championship in 102 years.

Dean and Seamus had bought Harry sweats of varying types, while Neville had boughten Harry a book on combat magic, and its uses in combating the dark arts, one that Harry was quite eager to read.

Charlie had bought Harry a Ballycastle Bats Jersey, Bill had gone with an extremely rare book on magical theory that he had found on one of his expeditions as a curse breaker. This was probably Harry's favourite gift of the day. He was vastly interested by the topic, but it was not taught at Hogwarts. Each class had a theoretical component, but it didn't dive deep enough for his liking. The topic was also becoming more and more obscure, and therefore, more and more difficult to find any valuable information on.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley gave Harry a bag of baked goods made by Mrs. Weasley, probably the best cook/baker Harry would ever meet, along with a Weasley jumper in red, with the number 14, printed on the chest in gold.

The night finally came to a close with Fred, George, and Lee Jordan letting loose with a spectacular display of Filibusters Fireworks. After that was over, Neville, Dean, and Seamus said their goodbyes and departed for their homes, while Mrs. Weasley politely ordered everyone to bed, reminding Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George how early they would all have to be up the next day.

That night Harry slept better than he had in a long time, disregarding the strange interventions from some outside force, and Harry's last thought before drifting off was that tonight, he did not feel like he would need any help in getting a restful sleep, just as he drifted off, a tired smile still gracing his lips.

…..

Gabrielle could not be any more excited as the morning finally arrived, the morning of their departure for the Quidditch World Cup, the very event she had been anticipating for weeks on end.

Gabrielle, not usually a morning person, sprang out of bed enthusiastically, and crossed her bedroom, stepping gracefully into the connected bathroom and quickly showering and getting dressed.

'Being a Veela, as annoying as it can be does have it perks.' Thought Gabrielle with a smile as she made her way into the elaborate dining room where her mother and father were already waiting for her.

Most girls would take hours to get ready, as Fleur was likely doing now, but being gifted with the Veela traits basically took that step out of her life. She could essentially just will any blotches to leave her face, and her hair to rearrange itself. This wouldn't work for any real damage, like cuts, bruises, scratches scars, or anything like that. You also couldn't remove something that was always there, like if someone were to have a birthmark, or wrinkles in later years, but it was a very quick alternative to a long winded beauty routine, and probably saves Gabrielle a heap of money on makeup. Though, reflecting on it, she didn't think she would use it, even if she wasn't a Veela, she was sick enough of the attention.

'Then again.' She thought, if she wasn't a Veela her life would be so different she wouldn't even begin to estimate her thought process.

" _Good morning angel_ " Her father said with a small smile, looking up from the top of his newspaper, a croissant still in hand." _Did you slept well_?"

" _Non_ _papa,_ " Gabrielle quickly answered in rapid French. " _I was far too_ _excited to sleep anything remotely close to decent_ , _and good morning_ _to you as well_ , _and you mama_ , _where_ _is fleur_?"

" _Getting ready i suppose_." Said her mother with a knowing smile. Gabrielle and her mother shared a smug look, they enjoyed flaunting this over Fleur's head because it was one of the harmless jabs that always got under her sisters nerve.

" _Well she should hurry up_." Said Gabrielle impatiently. " _We don't have all day_."

" _Calm_ _yourself Gabrielle_." Said her father with a chuckle. " _We are not bound by time_ , _the match is not until this evening, and you know your sister, much like yourself is not a early riser_."

" _But i was up early today_." Gabrielle protested.

" _Yes, and i appreciate that, but please do not act immature, it is very unlike you_."

" _I know, and i'm sorry, i'm just impatient is all_."

" _That is understandable, have some breakfast while you wait._ "

So, calming herself down a bit, and quelling the slight annoyance at her sister, Gabrielle took her seat and took some croissants, as well as a bit of fruit, and some coffee for her breakfast. She was just about finished when finally her sister strolled gracefully into the room, her head up high, and her posture positively screaming superiority.

Gabrielle had to try hard not to roll her eyes. Her sister was pompous no doubt about that, and you'd think she was the Queen of the magical world the way she walked around, always looking like she owned the place. It did not upset Gabrielle, it simply amused her. Though Fleur was not technically Veela, she got a lot of attention herself, especially seeing as she had a lesser form of the allure that she could barely control. It was simply baffling to Gabrielle why Fleur would carry herself in a way that would only gain her even more attention? But then again, unlike herself, her sister always seemed to love the attention, but to her credit, she dealt with it well.

" _Good morning mama, papa, Gabrielle_." Said Fleur.

" _Good morning._ " They all greeted.

" _Fleur,_ " teased Gabrielle " _you do know we are going to watch Quidditch, not to go model the newest fashion do you not_?"

" _Of course_." Said Fleur, raising a perfect eyebrow in question.

" _Oh, silly me, with all of the time you spent upstairs I just thought you may have been preparing for something far more formal."_

" _Brat_." Jabbed Fleur.

" _Princess_." Responded Gabrielle, standing up and giving a mock curtsey.

" _Alright, that's enough you two."_ Said their mother, Apolline, though she too was smiling at the display in front of her. " _Fleur sweetheart, eat something quickly and then we need to be going._ "

" _How are we traveling_?" Asked Gabrielle, curiously, she assumed portkeys though she hadn't asked.

" _Apparition_." Her mother answered. " _Your father and Fleur will apparate first."_ She said that last bit with quite a bit of pride. Fleur had turned seventeen that Spring and had acquired her license to apparate, something she had reminded Gabrielle of far too often for the younger girls liking. After all, Gabrielle would turn 17 in January herself, so it would not be long until she acquired a license of her own. " _And then I will side along apparate you there as well."_ Her mother finished. " _There is a spot designated for high ranking officials from all of the international ministries to apparate directly into."_

Gabrielle nodded, if she was honest she hadn't even really considered this possibility, though she greatly preferred it this way. If it had been portkeys, they would have had to likely walk miles, just to be transported to the entrance of the site, and then potentially walk miles yet again in order to reach their site.

Gabrielle was practically bubbling with excitement, and than, over the bond she felt an almost identically feeling of excitement, as she wondered what could have had her bondmate as excited as she was?

…..

Far too early Harry was shaken awake. He almost sat bold upright but than he saw his path was blocked by a lot of bushy brown hair.

"Hermione." He heard Ron's sleepy voice call from the other bed. "It's the bloody crack of dawn."

"Your mom told me to wake you two up." Said Hermione disapprovingly in response to Ron's tone. "She told me to tell you guys to be down in the kitchen for breakfast in ten minutes." With that Hermione turned on her heel and walked out the door.

Harry heard Ron groan from the bed beside him as Harry sat up and reached for his glasses. Despite his grogginess, Ron was also getting up, clearly the idea of food was a promising enough prospect to overwrite his exhaustion.

A little over five minutes later, Harry and a still grumbling Ron clambered down into the kitchen, both still trying in vain to rub the sleep out of their eyes.

"Good morning boys." Greeted a very tired Mr. Weasley through a yawn.

"Good morning Mr. Weasley." Harry responded politely. As Ron simply responded with.

"Morning." Before he slumped into the chair beside his father, just as Harry took the seat opposite him.

Within seconds of sitting down Harry had a large plate of bacon and egg sandwiches placed in front of him by a Mrs. Weasley who looked far too awake for the hour of the day.

At that moment two more far more disgruntled figures stumbled through the door. Harry thought he was tired, and he had thought that Ron looked dead on his feet, despite this though, he admitted rather easily the twins looked far worse off. Harry suspected they had stayed up against their mother's wished in order to silently plot or experiment, or perhaps a combination of the two.

Their appearances were both identical (as always) as well as slightly comical. Their heads dropped, almost looking too heavy for their bodies. Their eyes were half shut, with large, defined bags showing underneath them.

"Good morning you two." Greeted Mrs. Weasley.

Fred and George merely inclined their heads in acknowledgement, seemingly unable to even muster of the energy for a response.

Breakfast was quite a quiet affair, with most of the participants too tired to muster up more than a word. Ginny had come stumbling in a few minutes after the twins, admittedly looking tired, but far less so than the others. She, at least looked well put together. Hermione had apparently gone to pack, having already finished breakfast before waking her two friends.

"Where are Bill and Charlie and P-P-Percy?" Asked Fred through a wide yawn.

"They're going to apparate later in the day." Answered Mrs. Weasley as she summoned Harry's empty plate and placed it in the sink before adding. "And don't speak with your mouth open while eating."

About half an hour later, and after A LOT of arguing over Fred and George's products and future aspirations, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, a very angry Fred and George, along with Mr. Weasley were on their way to retrieve the portkeys that were set to take them to the Quidditch World Cup. At this point, excitement had finally overpowered exhaustion, and Harry was now bouncing on the balls of his feet despite the early hour.

When, at last they reached the top of the hill that in Harry's opinion was more accurately described as a small mountain. They were joined by two others.

"Ah, Amous." Spoke up Arthur still slightly out of wind. "Everyone this is Amos Diggory, he works in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and I'm taking it you've met his son Cedric at school."

Cedric inclined his head to Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Hermione waved back nervously, and Ginny smiled at him in greeting, while Ron, along with the twins glared openly at the boy. It seemed the Quidditch game had not been forgotten.

Recognizing them for lost causes Cedric turned to Harry, and noting that he looked perfectly friendly, extended a hand.

"I don't believe we've actually met properly. Cedric Diggory, a pleasure to meet the best seeker at Hogwarts." He greeted with a smile.

Harry took his outstretched hand and shook firmly.

"I don't know about all that, but Harry Potter, a pleasure to actually meet you Cedric."

"Always the gentlemen Ced." Chortled Amous before turning to Harry and extending his own hand.

"Ced has told me about you, he seems to really think you're something on the pitch. I told him to stop admiring and focus on beating you again eh." He said with a chuckle.

Harry took his hand and smiled politely at him.

"I always enjoy a challenge, and Cedric is the best challenge at Hogwarts bar none."

He meant it too, Cho was good, and even Draco was pretty good, but Cedric was, aside from himself, easily the best seeker at the school, and probably the best since Charlie Weasley.

"Portkeys about to go off." Warned Arthur holding out the battered old boot. "Everyone take hold."

Arthur looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow in question but having read about portekeys, Harry just smiled at him, reached out and took hold of the portkey.

Harry felt an odd jerk at the naval, as if a hook had been attached to the spot. From there on out, Harry could register nothing around him except for an indecipherable blur of motion that was the world around him going to fast to comprehend as they seemed to bend space and time around them.

After an odd conversation with a very confused muggle and yet another memory charm, (Harry suspected it was probably about the tenth too many of them for the muggles sake) they finally made their way towards their campsite.

Watching Mr. Weasley try to start a fire "the muggle way" was quite entertaining if a little horrifying, Harry was sure he would get himself hurt. Hermione politely ended the game though when she half asked, half politely demanded Arthur to just let her do it, and in only a few moments a fire was lit.

"Excellent, thank you Hermione, you'll have to show me how to do that later. Anyways, could you three go and get us some water while we pitch tent?"

Harry shuddered at the idea of Arthur, and his pureblood sons and daughter trying to set up the tent, but nodded and went off with Ron and Hermione anyways quite interested as to the extent of the mess he would come back to.

They walked for quite a while, Harry, along with Hermione was extremely interested to observe all the different witches and wizards. He had never seen different cultures in this world, and he was curious to see how different it was from muggle society. It turned out not too different, as many of the muggle stereotypes Harry had grown up with were proven to still hold true, even if witches and wizards seemed to put their own magical spin on some things. For example as they passed a bunch of tents, one of them dawned the American flag, with two witches chatting in unmistakable American accents, however that was not the intriguing thing, the intriguing thing was that the flag on the tent seemed to be singing. Harry wasn't certain but if he remembered correctly from his elementary school social studies lessons, it was singing the American nation anthem.

They walked into a sea of green, and patches of shamrocks, clearly the supporters of Ireland. They were stopped for a passionate discussion on the match with their fellow fourth year Gryffindor Seamus Finnigan.

The best part though, at least in Harry's opinion came when they stumbled upon the merchandise section. Ron, to his greatest enjoyment bought a tiny, lifelike figure of the Bulgarian seeker, Victor Krum, he was said to be the best in the world, and Harry, being well versed in Quidditch could not disagree with the argument.

Harry himself bought a shamrock hat for the three of them, as well as three sets of Omnioculars. Ron protested this, but after Harry told him he wouldn't get him a Christmas gift to balance it off Ron seemed to sober up a bit. Harry smirked as he knew there was no chance he wouldn't buy Ron a gift for Christmas, and he was fairly sure Ron would have forgotten about his long before December.

As Ron and Hermione got into some stupid argument Harry kind of just spaced out. He was mentally replaying all he had seen of Victor Krum, analyzing his movement patterns, strengths weaknesses, and Harry, just for a moment imagined himself stroking onto a pitch in a set of English robes, and pictured how he would play against Krum. This sparked a brand new thought process in his head, as he tried to quickly concoct the perfect set of tactics to beat the Bulgarian seeker.

In his state Harry was, evidently oblivious to his surroundings. He hadn't noticed Ron and Hermione had stopped, having their paths blocked by a group of older teens. Harry, carrying the water as well, had walked straight into someone, dropping the bucket of water, which promptly spilled.

Harry cursed and looked up at the person who he ran into and froze. Judging by the height of the person, he had expected a teenage boy, that was not what he got.

Harry looked up into the face of who was, undoubtedly the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She was tall, not freakishly tall, but taller than any girl in Harry's year, perhaps an inch taller than Ron. She had what in Harry's hormonal teenage brain, was probably the perfect figure. There was plenty to please his raging hormones, though nothing was in your face, or overly defined. Her face was angelic, her lips naturally pink and full, her hair was long and hung loosely down her back, enchantingly silvery blond locks seemed to blow in a non existent wind.

"I'm so sorry." The girl said in a light French accent. Putting her hands on Harry's shoulders to steady him. When she touched him, Harry felt an odd shock go through his body, it was not painful, or even unpleasant, but it was noticeable. Harry, thanks to his seeker reflexes steadied himself quickly enough, but the girl did not take her hands off of his shoulders, instead she peered into his eyes intently, a curious look on her face, as her shockingly light blue eyes bored into his green ones. Her stare practically froze him in place as he felt his mouth go dry.

"Let him go Gabrielle." One of the boys joked, nudging her in the side. The girl, Gabrielle apparently, flushed slightly and stepped back, releasing Harry, but not taking her eyes off of him.

"You idiot." Exclaimed Hermione, "we're going to have to walk all that way again to get water. What were you even doing?"

"Thinking." Answered Harry as he tried not to flush himself.

"It is ok." Said Gabrielle she looked down at the bucket on the ground and bent down to retrieve it. To Harry's astonishment when she held it up it was full of water again. Harry hadn't seen her with a wand when she had bent down, and he was sure she had not drawn one. He was equally sure the water had spilled but as Gabrielle shot him a dazzling smile that, (despite himself) made his knees go week.

Ron seemed to be in a similar state to Harry, but at least Harry wasn't gaping open mouthed at the blonde.

"Good as new." Said Gabrielle with another smile, holding the bucket out to Harry, before he could take it, Hermione had snatched it, muttering something about boys.

"Thanks." Said Harry, his voice came out surprisingly normal as he looked at Gabrielle.

She just smiled again and butterflies rose in Harry's stomach, he kind of wished she would stop smiling if it was going to keep effecting him in this way. But the other half of him wanted her to smile at him more.

"Hey," spoke up one of her friends, in a slightly heavier French accent. "Are either one of you up for a game of Quidditch in ze clearing beyond ze trees." He pointed to where he meant.

Ron seeming to snap out of his trance spoke up.

"I didn't bring a broom, but Harry could probably take the both of you at once."

Harry flushed a bit at that.

"Is zat so?" Asked the boy, looking at Harry with curiosity.

"He was the youngest seeker in a century at our school." Bragged Ron.

"Were you really?" Asked another blonde girl standing to the side of Gabrielle. She was of average height, maybe an inch or two taller, but was very slim, Harry thought she would have had the ideal build for a seeker.

Harry just nodded shyly.

"Why don't we play a three way game?" Said the same boy who had first spoken. He was a couple of inches taller than Harry, though not quite as tall as Ron. He had a tanned complexion, and wavy, light brown hair.

"Me, versus Maurice," he gestured to the other boy. He was about the same height but was thinner. "Versus you." He finished gesturing towards Harry. "We'll have one goal and try to score on each other with ze quaffle, we will set looz a practice snitch, ze first one to catch it ends ze match."

His friend Maurice nodded eagerly. Harry didn't get a chance to answer.

"We really must be getting back." Hermione tried but was cut off immediately.

"You're on!" Cried Ron, practically bouncing in anticipation. "Meet you back here in 20 minutes, bring your own brooms." The boys just nodded and Harry was lead off by Ron, not sure how he felt being offered up by his friend, though considering he would probably enjoy himself he couldn't really be upset with Ron.

…..

Gabrielle had had a very interesting day. Well, it had actually been quite normal until he had shown up. The boy who had outright ran into her, completely lost in thought. She had actually been so grateful he hadn't been gawking at her, unlike most of the male species that she hadn't even particularly been bothered by it.

But when she had touched him it had happened. A shock wave had ran through her body, and it was as if a magnet was drawing her to him. For a split second she had been sure that he was her mate, but she couldn't be sure. He had shown no signs of feeling anything similar, and he was very difficult to read, despite her attempt.

She did know his general emotions, but that didn't help much. When a Veela touched someone they sort of got a feedback loop of emotions. Nothing like thoughts, or even like Legilimency, just knowing how the person was feeling. The boy… Harry his name had been, was feeling embarrassed, anxious, shy, and excited. It was an odd mixture of emotions. Embarrassment was rather obvious, and she figured excitement was a given as well, seeing as they were at the Quidditch World Cup, but the other two she could not find a reason. She did hope he wasn't like other boys. He had frozen when he had seen her, though she had probably lost a grip on her allure a tiny bit when she had been so surprised. Even then, he was nothing compared to his friend, who, with his gaping jaw, Gabrielle could almost picture drooling at her.

Now, about fifteen minutes later they were standing in the clearing, Maurice with a Nimbus 2000 draped over his shoulder, Matthieu holding his Nimbus 2001, looking eager and ready to go. Her friend Sophie, who had been there during the exchange spoke up for the first time since she had questioned the black haired boy. But she spoke quietly, quietly enough that Gabrielle would be the only one who could hear.

"Do you think he was being truthful?"

"Do I think who was being truthful about what?" Asked Gabrielle, unprepared to be brought out of her thoughts so abruptly by her best friend.

"The boy, do you think he is really the youngest seeker in a century, from his school? I mean, they were clearly English which mean he goes to Hogwarts, that's quite a strong Quidditch school."

Gabrielle shrugged, in reality she was almost sure he was being honest, she had a very good instinct when it came to judging people, she suspected being Veela was part of it, and having read his emotions only moments before probably didn't hurt, but she didn't suspect he would lie about that. And if he had blushed like that over a lie, he was a very good actor.

"I suspect we will find out in a moment." She answered as she saw the smaller raven haired boy walking back to the clearing, he was accompanied by the same tall, lanky redhead as earlier, but two extras Gabrielle had not seen earlier, and the other girl who had been with them was now absent.

She suspected the other two to be the redhead's brothers though they didn't look too similar. They did however, share the exact, rather extreme shade of fiery red hair.

The raven haired boy was looking slightly nervous, though he hid it rather well, he, like Maurice, was carrying a Nimbus 2000 broom over his shoulder.

"Excellent." Said Maurice, transitioning back to English. "Are you ready?" He trailed off not knowing the boys name.

"Harry." The boy said shortly. Gabrielle registered it was a bit odd that he had not given his surname but didn't think anything of it.

"Alright then Arry." Said Matthieu, "we will take to ze air, and Sophie will release ze snitch. We will use zose trees as ze goal." He pointed at two trees about far enough apart to be a goal. "Are you ready?"

"Wait." Spoke up one of the red heads. He was one of the newcomers.

"Won't the snitch" he started

"Fly away." Finished the other, who Gabrielle was certain was his twin.

"It eez enchanted to stay in ze general area." Said Sophie, entering the conversation for the first time. "Ze quaffle has ze same enchantments upon it."

"So," repeated Matthieu, looking at Harry, "are you ready?" The boy nodded, and all three kicked off, Matthieu, with the help of his superior broom rose the fastest.

"25 galleons on Harry." The twins said in unison. The other red head nodded.

"Make it 50, I'll chip in 25."

Sophie looked mortified.

"Zat is a lot to bet."

"We're quite confident."

"In ickle Harkins." The twins spoke in that odd back and forward fashion that made Gabrielle smile despite herself.

Sophie looked disappointed. She was dating Matthieu and always raved about his ability, even though Gabrielle silently thought she could best him if she tried.

"I am sorry, I would take ze bet, but I do not have zat kind of money to just zrow around."

"If you want to take ze bet." Gabrielle said distractedly while watching the boys fly. "Zen take it, I will cover you if you lose."

"Gabrielle I can't do zat!" Protested Sophie.

"If you are confident in Matthieu it should not matter." Put in Gabrielle, her eyes still on the sky.

"I will pay you back if I lose."

"Sure." Said Gabrielle, yet she knew she would not take her friends money, she had more than enough of it to go around.

"Ok zen, you're on." Said Sophie shaking hands with the other three boys, who all looked like they had just won the lottery.

Maurice was a decent player, but Matthieu was actually a pretty good seeker. He probably wasn't as good as Sophie, though most people wouldn't know that since unlike Matthieu, Sophie didn't make her talents known. It's not that Matthieu was a show off, but he was often in broom racing tournaments, so his skill on a broom was fairly well known. Gabrielle silently thought that the new boy would have his work cut out for him against Matthieu and his superior broom.

She was quickly proven wrong.

The boy was, in short, and discounting professional, 'but' Gabrielle thought, this statement included many of those as well, the best flyer Gabrielle had ever seen.

Though he claimed to be a seeker, he played chaser extremely well. He weaved between the other two with ease, and scored well. While easily diving to intercept shots, and spinning to block at the perfect time. About three minutes into the scrimadge the fun began.

Harry had the quaffle and faked one way before doing a double take mid air and tossing the quaffle over his shoulder before going into a dive.

"Feint." She heard one of the twins say from behind her. Gabrielle didn't think so though, he was leaning forward on his broom, his eyes completely focused on one spot, unwavering. He was reaching out with one hand as Matthieu was almost drawing even with him, aided by his faster broom, and Maurice was not far behind. Then, faster than Gabrielle though possible for human or broomstick, Harry completely changed directions and shot up vertically. Matthieu managed to partially pull out of the dive his feet slammed into the ground hard and he flew off his broom, but he avoided the worst of it, Maurice on the other hand ate the ground hard.

Gabrielle heard whooping from the redheads and heard something she thought may have been a high five.

Maurice slowly, dazedly got to his feet. Matthieu was already back in the air but it was too late. Harry held up a glint of gold that Gabrielle recognized as the snitch. She had looked away from the sky for only a second to check on her friends and the boy had got the snitch.

"Merde." She Maurice curse.

Sophie also looked quite put out.

Harry came in for a landing, Matthieu landing beside him.

"Zat was amazing!" Gushed Matthieu seemingly more awed than disappointed. "Where did you learn to do zat?"

The boy just shrugged awkwardly.

"I kind of just taught myself about a year ago."

"How old are you?" Asked Maurice, joining into the conversation.

"Fourteen." The boy answered, flushing a bit again. Gabrielle didn't know whether to gawk or laugh. A fourteen year old with that kind of skill? On one hand it was kind of funny two sixteen year olds had been bested so easily by someone two years their junior. On the other, it was astounding how good he was for his age.

"Even before ze catch." Continued Matthieu. "You outscored us easily, I zaught you said you were a seeker."

"I did." Said Harry. "I mean, I am."

"Zen how do you learn to play chaser like zat?"

The boy smiled for the first time.

"Let's just say we have some unique tactics at Hogwarts."

That was clearly not the answer the boys had wanted, but they took it in stride.

A throat clearing behind Gabrielle caught her attention. She turned to see the twins looking at her.

When she fixed them with her gaze they too froze up a bit, they're jaws falling open for a three count. Gabrielle almost sighed, beyond sick of this reaction. To their credit, they pulled it together quickly, and though they're voices were a bit shakier than earlier, they acted as if nothing had happened.

"I believe." Started one.

"You said." Continued the other.

"You were the person to see."

"In order to cash out our winnings."

Gabrielle actually had to suppress a giggle, and hid a smile with her hand. She slung her purse off of her shoulder and fished out sixty galleons and handed it over.

"The bet was only for fifty." The boys said in unison.

"Keep ze change." Said Gabrielle. "For being amusing and for attempting to be honourable."

The two mock bowed to her, gave a mock salute and walked back to Harry and the other redhead.

The two of them were now in a passionate discussion over the Quidditch World Cup matchup along with Matthieu and Maurice.

As much as Gabrielle half wanted to join in, she needed to be going to her parents by now, and she suspected the same of the boys.

"It was a pleasure meeting you all." She said, politely stepping into their conversation and curtsying gracefully. "But we should be going."

The tall, lanky redhead seemed to have fallen into a trance again, but then he winced suddenly, and she thought she saw the raven haired boy, Harry, shift his weight as if moving his foot.

"A pleasure to meet you as well." Said Harry politely as he turned, his friend following.

"Pleasure doing business with you!" The twins called out in unison as they retreated. Gabrielle smiled again, she really did like those two.

Despite that though her mind was on the other boy, Harry.

On the exterior he was unremarkable. Rather good looking she supposed, though she hadn't really considered it at the time. His eyes were a stunning shade of green, though his hair was a bit of a mess, although she admitted it suited him.

But he looked nothing remarkable, he was small, probably even a bit undersized for a fourteen year old, though not drastically. He was also thin, not feeble, he did have a wiry kind of leanness, similar to an athlete, but thin nonetheless, yet despite that it seemed as if he was anything but.

First off his skill on a broomstick but his persona? They just did not go together. Gabrielle did not picture someone that good at his age being so quiet, and being so flustered by praise, as he seemed to be.

Despite his skill and his persona, it was not that which held her thoughts. Had the shock been a coincidence? Or was their something to it?

For now, and possibly forever, since she did not know if they would ever meet again, Harry would just remain an interesting, though likely an unimportant mystery.

…..

Authors Endnote

Well, what did you guys think?

The first meeting of Harry and Gabrielle. Not much interaction between the two, though that was no accident, mix that with the fact she doesn't even know who he really is and Gabrielle could be in for some interesting revelations.

Next chapter, the Quidditch World Cup itself.

Thank you once more to my betas JZuCuadra and James Marx for their help, and an extra shoutout to James for going the extra mile with his help.

With all of that out of the way, I apologize once again for my long absence, but I promise you the next one will be out in a timely fashion. Until next time my friends.


	5. The Quidditch World Cup

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling, I do not own Harry Potter, and as much of a travesty as it may be, I do not make any money off of my work.**

 **Authors Note 1**

 **Just one quick note before we get started, in the last chapter I mentioned the fact that Harry was riding his Nimbus 2000. I know in canon it was destroyed in third year, but in this story, Harry asked Remus to teach him how to fight dementors as soon as he got to Hogwarts, and learned the Patronus charm before the first match.**

 **Sorry for that small error on my part, this chapter will be interesting.**

 **Authors Note 2**

 **Thank you to James Marx and SonofPoseidon2018 for the edit on this chapter.**

'Internal Dialogue'

 _French_

 **Chapter 5 The Quidditch World Cup**

As they made their way back to the tent, Harry's mind could not rest. Despite his best efforts to draw his mind away, his brain kept unconsciously traveling back to land on the beautiful blonde who Harry had run into.

He couldn't understand it for the life of him, he had had a small crush on Cho Chang last year, but she had never made him feel like this. It wasn't even that he had a crush necessarily, (nor that he didn't) it was just the fact that Harry couldn't pull his mind off of her, it was both intriguing and annoying in equal measure.

When they returned they were greeted by the site of Ginny, frustratedly trying to sort out the tent, while Mr. Weasley was talking to a man Harry did not know.

"Ludo Bagman is hardly helping our case." The man said, a scowl on his face. "Talking about bludgers and quaffles in plain sight of the muggles, and his outfit! Ah, well, it's getting on, I better go, talk to you later Arthur."

"What in Merlin's name took you so long?" Asked Ginny, half frustrated half incredulous.

Ron immediately launched into the explanation of the Quidditch match.

"Those Frenchies didn't even know what hit them," said Ron in a rather uncharacteristically sing-song voice. "It looked like someone attacked their puppy." Despite the morbidity of that statement, Ron still managed to sound as if Christmas had come early.

"That's all fine and good." Said Ginny, clearly still irritable. "But for one thing, you could have come and got me, and for two, we needed you muggle raised lot to help us with these bloody tents."

"Ginevra, language." Chided Mr. Weasley, though to Harry he looked like he very much agreed with his daughter's statement, even if he couldn't openly admit to it.

"Dad?" She asked curiously. "Isn't Mr. Bagman the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports? Shouldn't he know better than to go talking about bludgers in front of muggles?"

"Yes, he should." Said Arthur smiling. "But Ludo has always been a bit… lax when it comes to security. Couldn't ask for a more enthusiastic head of the Department of Games and Sports though. He played Quidditch for England you know, and he was the best beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

Setting up the tents was rather frustrating. If Harry and Hermione had done it on their own, he had a sneaking suspicion that they would likely have finished in half the time, with about a hundredth of the frustration.

By the end of it, Harry was properly flustered. For someone who had such a passion for muggles and their methods, Arthur was rather useless. His enthusiasm was admirable, but in the end, it hindered far more than it helped.

At long last, the tent was set, a good amount of silent cursing on the parts of both Harry and Hermione and lunch was started on an open fire.

As people began to move past Arthur would call them out to Harry and Hermione. While Ron and Ginny largely ignored this, probably having known about them already.

They had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came strolling out of the woods towards them.

"Just apparated dad." Said Percy loudly. "Ah, excellent lunch!"

They were halfway through their plates of eggs and sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding towards them.

"Ah hah," he said "the man of the moment Ludo!"

Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person Harry had seen so far. Even including old Archy in his flowered nightdress, who they had seen on their way to collect water. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in long, horizontal strips of yellow and black, an enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed, the robes were stretched across a wide belly he surely had not had in the days he played Quidditch for England.

His nose was squashed 'probably broken by a stray bludger' Harry thought, but his bright blue eyes, short blonde hair and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily. He was walking as if he had springs attached to the balls of his feet and was plainly in a state of wild excitement.

"Arthur old man!" He puffed as he reached the campfire "what a day hey? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming, and hardly a hiccup in the arrangements, not much for me to do."

Behind him a group of haggard looking ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of magical fire, which was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air.

Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. Apparently, his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression. Percy had ranted on for days about how Mr. Crouch (his boss in the Department of Magical Cooperation) was a far better department head in every conceivable way. But that disapproval seemed nonexistent in the presence of the man himself.

"Ah yes," said Mr. Weasley grinning "this is my son Percy. He's just started at the ministry, and this is Fred… no sorry, George that's Fred, Bill, Charlie, Ron, my daughter Ginny and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

Bagman did the smallest of double takes when he heard Harry's name, and his eyes did the familiar flick upwards towards the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Everyone," Mr. Weasley continued "this is Ludo Bagman. You know who he is, it's thanks to him we have such good tickets."

Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.

"Fancy a flutter on the match Arthur?" He said eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow and black robes. "I've already got Roddy Ponter betting me Bulgaria will score first. I offered him nice odds seeing as Ireland's front 3 are the strongest I've seen in years, and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares on her eel farm on a week-long match!"

"Ah, go on then," said Mr. Weasley "let's see, a galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A galleon?" Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed but recovered himself. "Very well, very well any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," Said Mr. Weasley "Molly wouldn't like…"

"We'll bet 37 galleons, 13 sickles, 3 knuts," Said Fred as he and George quickly pulled out all their money, "that Ireland win, but Viktor Krum gets the snitch! Oh, and we'll throw in a fake wand."

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that!" Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all. On the contrary, his boyish face shown with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared withughter.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years. I'd pay 5 Galleons for that!" Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

"Boys," said Mr. Weasley under his breath, "I don't want you betting. That's all your savings your mother…"

"Don't be a spoilsport Arthur!" Boomed Ludo Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want. You reckon Ireland will win, but Krum will get the snitch? Not a chance boys, not a chance! I'll give you excellent odds on that one. We'll add 5 galleons for the funny wand then shall we?"

Mr. Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins names.

"Cheers." Said George, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away into the front of his robes.

Bagman went to turn to Mr. Weasley but was promptly interrupted by Harry.

"I'll take a similar bet actually."

Bagman turned to him, a gleeful look in his blue eyes as he began to bounce up and down excitedly.

"Go on then my boy, go on!"

"100 galleons Ireland win by less than 30 points after Krum catches the snitch, and an extra 25 galleons that Krum plows Lynch at least once."

Plowing was a Quidditch term generally used to describe the phenomenon when a player crashes hard into the ground after buying a faint from his opposition, this almost always only happened if you were a seeker.

Bagman began to positively shake with excitement.

"I almost feel guilty," he chortled, "alright then Mr. Potter, I'll give you excellent odds on that, excellent indeed."

Bagman jotted Harry's name down, and Harry took a piece of parchment identical to the one that had been given to George only moments earlier, with a thanks to the man.

The following conversation started quite normally in Harry's opinion. Fred did get in a pretty nice line though as Percy was going on praising Mr. Crouch, piggybacking off of Ludo Bagman's remark about the man being able to speak over 150 languages.

"Mr. Crouch!" Spoke up Percy, positively writhing with excitement. "He can speak over 200! Mermish, and gobbledygook, and troll…"

"Anyone can speak troll," cut in Fred, "all you have to do is look stupid, point and grunt."

After this, though the conversation faded back into normality, even when Barty Crouch himself arrived, making Percy look like a schoolgirl who had just met her celebrity crush. That was until the mention of Hogwarts came up.

"I imagine you two will be happy when this is all over?" Intoned Mr. Weasley.

"Happy?" Asked Ludo, seeming rather incredulous at the notion. "Don't know when I've had more fun. But it's not like we'll be bored mind you, hey Barty? Plenty to plan, plenty to arrange after all, eh?"

"I thought we had agreed not to reveal that bit of information until all the details were sorted out Ludo." Said Mr. Crouch crisply.

"Details details," said Bagman absentmindedly as he waved away the word as if it were a pesky bug, "they've signed haven't they? They've all agreed, haven't they? After all, I'm sure these kids will know soon enough, it's happening at Hogwarts after all."

"We must be going Ludo, Bulgarians to meet." Said Mr. Crouch, sharply, dragging Bagman off to the meeting.

"What's happening at Hogwarts?" Asked the twins in unison as soon as the two men had disapparated.

"You'll find out soon enough." Said Mr. Weasley smiling.

"It's classified information until such time that the ministry decides to release it." Said Percy stiffly. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh, shut up Weatherby." Said Fred.

A sense of excitement settled over the campsite as the afternoon dragged on and eventually faded to dusk.

At this point, even the ministry seemed to have caved to the infectious atmosphere, as they no longer seemed to be attempting any action against the various displays of blatant magic now breaking out all over the campsite.

A few minutes later, a deep, resounding gong rang out across the field and at once green and red torches burst into life, clearly lighting a path towards the pitch, and the massive stadium that cast it into shadow.

"It's time!" Said Mr. Weasley, now looking just as excited as Ludo Bagman. "Come on let's go!"

Clutching their purchases, Mr. Weasley in the lead, they made their way into the wood, the sounds of thousands of people jostling, and murmuring excitedly were ever prominent around them.

They walked through the woods in silence for about twenty minutes, Harry could swear his heart rate increased with every step closer to the stadium.

When they finally got a close up of the stadium Harry had to marvel at the wonders of magic. Though he could only see a small portion of the seemingly never-ending gold walls around the stadium, he guessed that it seated well over one hundred thousand witches and wizards.

The only part that was not grand, at least in Harry's eyes, was the fact that they had to fight there way through an absolute mob in order to get to the entrance.

"Prime seats." Said the wizard allowing people through. "Second row from the top, right below the minister's box.

Eager to escape the constant flow of excited people, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley all began to make their way up the seemingly never-ending stairs to the second box from the top until a voice cut them off.

"My word, Harry Potter. A pleasure to see you again my boy!"

Harry looked up to the row above them (the minister's box) to see who had spoken to him and nearly did a double take when he saw the beaming face of Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

"Where are you going, Harry?" Fudge called out to him, but it was Mr. Weasley who answered him.

"We are in the second row from the top Minister, right below you, we are very sorry but we really must be taking our seats."

"Come now," said Fudge looking at Harry with a boyish grin, "surely you wouldn't mind allowing Mr. Potter to join me up here Arthur? We are on good terms after all and there is room, plenty of room."

Harry hid a feeling of dread as it filled him, he knew Fudge's reasoning, in that box were high ranking ministry officials from all over the world, surely he wanted to show Harry off, and Harry had never dealt with the attention well.

He looked at Mr. Weasley pleadingly but he only got a shrug in return. Obviously, Mr. Weasley was unwilling to refuse a request from the Minister himself, and if Harry was being honest he couldn't blame him.

"Alright then," said Mr. Weasley, "as long as it is alright with Harry, meet us at the bottom of the stairs after the match Harry." And before Harry could protest he lead the others to their seats, Harry could have sworn he saw Ron shoot him a wistful look and heard him mutter something as they moved away.

"Excellent!" Boomed Fudge. "Come on up than Harry plenty of room, plenty of room, why don't you take the seat to my right beside this beautiful young woman."

Harry climbed up to the box, he surveyed its occupants. Most were a mystery to him, there was, of course, Fudge, and a Bulgarian man to his right, the opposite side he had indicated Harry to sit. There were plenty of other officials, who Harry supposed must be the Ministers of other countries. Finally, Harry's eyes fell on the spot Fudge had indicated and his breath nearly caught.

There was an empty spot between Fudge and a breathtakingly beautiful, and all too familiar girl, her long legs crossed in a ladylike pose, her hands folded in her lap as she looked at Harry, a good deal of interest in her mind-numbing blue eyes.

Behind her were three others, a well-built man with short black hair, an aristocratic face, and warm brown eyes, and two women who must be related to the beauty from earlier. They both had the same willowy figure and silvery blonde hair. The older one shared the girl's eyes, though the other girl's eyes, (though blue) were darker than those who Harry guessed to be her sister and mother.

"Ah yes, introductions!" Exclaimed Fudge excitedly. "Harry this is…" and Harry was introduced to every Minister in the box before finally coming to the family that had snagged Harry's attention. "Unfortunately the French Minister was unable to make it, so in his place, he has sent his International Ambassador and his family." Fudge gestured to the man, waiting for him to introduce himself which he did, as he and his family stood.

"A great pleasure to meet you at last Monsieur Potter," the man said, shaking Harry's hand with a firm grip. His accent was certainly French, though it was not heavy and his English seemed quite good, he supposed if he was an ambassador it had to be.

"My name is Joseph Delecour, and as your Minister has kindly informed you, I am ze International Ambassador for ze French Ministry of magic. Zis is my wife, Appoline." he gestured to the woman with silvery blonde hair and the same bright blue eyes as her daughter who Harry had met earlier.

Apolline like Gabrielle (Harry remembered her name was) was very tall for a woman, not freakishly so, but enough to catch attention, and enough that Harry felt shorter than he really was, (though he knew girls tended to grow earlier than boys) what he found interesting though is the other daughter, though still tall, was noticeably a few inches shorter than her mother and sister, (who were about the same height) despite looking no younger than her sister.

Harry supposed this wasn't that surprising, genetics worked in funny ways, he just found it a bit odd.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Potter." Apolline greeted him, offering her hand which he took, kissing the back of (a tradition he had been taught by Ron in preparation for the event, just in case) before shaking it.

"Zis," spoke Joseph again, "is my eldest daughter, Fleur Delacour." He said, gesturing to the shorter of the women. Fleur merely inclined her head but did not offer her hand and Harry just smiled politely at her. She was also breathtakingly beautiful, but there was something off about her, as though something was trying to tug Harry closer to her. Despite this, and her undeniable beauty, for some reason she did not captivate his attention the same way her sister did.

"And zis," said Joseph one last time, gesturing to the girl that had remained in the forefront of Harry's mind all day, "is my youngest daughter, Gabrielle Delacour."

Gabrielle smiled softly at Harry before performing a grateful curtsy before offering her hand, Harry, butterflies eating his stomach alive for reasons he could not fathom, kissed the back of her hand before shaking it.

Her grip was firm, though not as much so as her fathers. Her hands was warm, soft and smooth, and Harry could not help but notice a warmth seem to spread up his arm as soon as he touched her, though he suspected his blasted hormones were just working on overdrive.

Gabrielle smiled at him before pulling him down into the seat next to her and relinquishing his hand. Immediately Harry couldn't help but notice that his entire body felt cold.

For a moment they sat there in silence before Gabrielle surprised Harry greatly by speaking.

"I did not realize who you were earlier." She said, a note of apology in her voice.

Harry didn't respond for a moment, his stomach had done a weird summersault when she had spoken to him and he did not trust himself to answer immediately, to his relief when he did speak after a few moments his voice sounded shockingly normal.

"I was pleasantly surprised at that." Was his simple response.

Gabrielle looked taken aback for a moment, raising one perfect eyebrow as she tilted her head to the side to look at him. That pose had done odd things to Harry's heart and stomach.

"Why were you pleasantly surprised zat I did not recognize you?"

Harry shrugged.

"It gets rather old." He said, this wasn't really something he wanted to discuss with a stranger, no matter how beautiful they were, I mean, what was he supposed to say. 'Because I grew up being kicked around by muggles and my cousin essentially turned me into an introvert that eventually learned to treat attention like the plague.'

No, that certainly wouldn't do, though while in her presence, Harry had an odd desire to say that exact thing but he didn't.

"I zuppos, it would after a while." She conceded. "I imagine you get a lot of people trying to get a look at your scar?"

"Yeah," said Harry quietly, "you get used to that rather quickly though."

"People are very insensitive." Gabrielle set after a moment. "Zey look at you for something that took your parents away from you."

Harry nodded, he did want to get off of this topic.

Gabrielle must have sensed that because she changed topics at lightning speed.

"I am taking it by your choice of apparel you are zupporting Ireland?"

Harry nodded, a smile now crossing his face now that the conversation was on Quidditch.

"What about you?" He asked her.

Gabrielle picked a Bulgarian scarf up off of the bench beside her and proudly draped it around her neck with a smile.

"I have family in Bulgaria." She explained. "Even zough we are from France."

Harry nodded, thinking this was a good enough reason to support the team, and he would be lying if he wasn't a bit relieved that she didn't seem to be a Viktor Krum fangirl.

"Care for a wager?" Harry asked teasingly, having no idea how he managed the tone in this situation.

She smiled at him but shook her head.

"I said I zupport Bulgaria, I did not say I was foolish enough to zink zat zey will beat Ireland. Ireland is a far better team, zeir chasers, in particular, are magnificent."

Harry nodded.

"Troy, in particular, is rather brilliant."

"I am assuming you follow Quidditch?"

Harry nodded, a smile gracing his lips once more.

"You are very good on a broom." Said Gabrielle, looking at Harry with a small smile as he blushed furiously."How old are you?"

"Fourteen," Harry answered quietly, raising his eyebrows in a silent reciprocation of her question.

"I am zixteen, entering into my sixth year at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in France. You are going into fourth or fifth year?" She asked.

"Fourth." Answered Harry, his stomach still recovering from her comment about his ability on a broom. He did not know why he was acting like this, sure she was beautiful, but Harry couldn't have a crush on a girl he knew nothing about could he?

"What is your favorite subject?" She asked, seeming just as interested to talk about school as she was Quidditch. Harry, quite the gifted student, and always one to learn had no problem with this topic either.

"Defense Against The Dark Arts, though our teachers haven't always been up to par."

"Teachers?" Gabrielle asked, emphasizing the s.

"Yeah, we've had a new one every year since I was at the school. The first one wasn't great, the second was dreadful, but last years was brilliant." He said this last bit with a proud smile, fond memories of Professor Lupin flooding into his mind, his lessons early in the year in regards to the Patronus Charm stuck out in particular.

"Zat is unfortunate, it is very rare we have new teachers at Beauxbatons, I enjoy all of my teachers, zough our potions program is razzer dreadful, and we have never been a top school in Defense eizer, zough I do enjoy the subject, dueling in particular. Have you ever formally duelled before?"

Harry decided to tell a partial truth, figuring he wasn't going to go into detail on his many near-death experiences.

"I've dueled but not formally no."

"What are some of your ozer favorite subjects?" Asked Gabrielle.

"Transfiguration and charms." He answered.

At this, Gabrielle lit up.

"Zose are my two favorite subjects by far, and also my two best, Beauxbatons is world renowned for our charms program, and we have some of ze highest transfiguration scores as well." She finished proudly. "I zink I may go for my mastery in one, or maybe both later on."

Harry quirked an eyebrow impressed.

"That's impressive, I don't know if I could pull that off."

"Are you good in ze subjects?" She asked curiously.

Harry shrugged.

"I think I'm top of my year in transfiguration, charms would be close, so I'm ok, but no prodigy."

"I zink you may be being modest," Gabrielle observed. "If you are ze best in your year in transfiguration you must be quite good."

Harry's blush had returned, and he failed to hide it quite miserably.

At that moment, Ludo Bagman came bounding into the box, his wasps robes billowing in the light breeze as he went.

"Everyone ready?" Asked Bagman, his face positively glowing with excitement. "Minister are you ready?"

"Ready when you are Ludo?" Said Fudge sitting back comfortably in his chair, the chairs had been charmed, they felt like the most comfortable seats Harry had ever sat in.

Ludo Bagman raised his wand to his throat and muttered a spell Harry did not recognize, though could guess what it did.

"Sonorous."

Bagman's next words came out in a booming voice that carried to everyone in the stadium.

"Ladies and gentlemen welcome! Welcome to the final of the 422nd Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators roared with approval. Each nations national anthem booming throughout the stands via the flags, each seemingly trying to drown out the other.

The scoreboard, which seconds earlier had been showing an advertisement for Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, now showed IRELAND 0-BULGARIA 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce the Bulgarian team mascots!"

Harry, his heart now racing with excitement looked over towards Gabrielle and was surprised by what he saw.

Her beautiful features looked rather pained, her face contorted in a rather obvious look of contempt and disgust.

Despite Gabrielle's quite obvious distress for reasons unknown, the right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid mass of scarlet in support of the Bulgarians roared their approval.

Harry was trying to figure out a polite way to ask Gabrielle what was wrong when, to his utmost confusion and surprise one hundred beautiful women all began to glide onto the pitch. They were all tall, with varying shades of blonde hair from dirty, to platinum to silver. Harry's confusion about Gabrielle's mental dilemma only grew at the revelation of the mascots.

And then the music started and Harry could think no more.

The women began to dance, and Harry's mind was wiped completely and blissfully blank. The only thing in the world that mattered was watching the women dance because if they stopped horrible things were bound to happen.

As the women danced faster and faster wild half-formed thoughts began to race around inside of Harry's head. He wanted to do something very impressive right now, for a terrible moment his dazed mind actually considered jumping out of the box and into the stadium, and then a tiny voice spoke at the back of his mind.

'But why would you want to do such a foolish thing?'

'To impress them.' The other, larger bit of his mind argued back emphatically.

'But that's stupid, what's the point in impressing a bunch of women if you wouldn't live to see their reaction.'

A war was going on inside Harry's mind as he struggled for control over his body, beside him a beautiful blonde girl watched attentively, looking at Harry Potter with far more interest than she had had before.

…..

Gabrielle had been on the edge of her seat waiting for the match to start, and then he had shown up. The same boy from earlier, the one who had been brilliant in the air, though rather quiet, a complete contradiction to everything she knew about star Quidditch players.

The mystery of the boy only grew, instead of being answered when he was revealed to be Harry Potter. Though he could not see her, with his eyes in another place, Gabrielle gasped a little, resisting the urge to bury her face in her hands.

Of course it had been Harry Potter. She had even read an article a few years ago about Harry Potter becoming the youngest seeker at Hogwarts in a century. She was not a boy-who-lived fangirl, she had just always been into Quidditch and the story from The Daily Prophet had been posted in one of her weekly Quidditch magazines. Also, she knew that Harry Potter must be about the age of the boy she had seen. That only raised more questions though.

Quidditch players much of the time were quite full of themselves and certainly not quiet and reserved as he had been earlier. Add onto that the fact that he had been famous before he could speak in sentences and she couldn't, for the life of her comprehend how he had turned out the way he had.

When she was introduced by her father, Gabrielle looked at him more carefully. She didn't know how old he was, only that he was younger than her, however old he was he was certainly small for his age, not drastically so, but probably a couple inches under the average height and he was thin, not sickly thin, more a kind of athletic thin, maybe slightly more pronounced than that. His hair was unruly, despite the fact she had witnessed him subconsciously trying to flatten it in the last number of minutes, his eyes were a brilliant shade of emerald green, one which she did not think she had ever seen before. His famous lightning bolt scar was obviously covered by his fringe, something she was sure was intentional and could not blame him for.

When they shook hands it happened again, despite the fact that his hand was somewhat cold in hers, Gabrielle couldn't help but feel an odd feeling of warmth instead of the shock from earlier. She found this odd but didn't put as much into this as she had the shock. She suspected that may just be her Veela nature attempting to project his emotions. Excitement and a great deal of nervousness was what she felt from him and had to resist the urge to frown. Why would he be nervous? She was also pleasantly surprised that in the two times she had touched him, she had not felt lust radiating off of him, something she was more than used to, and something that instantly made her like the boy without ever talking to him.

Their following conversation was very interesting, he was fourteen, so two years younger than herself, interested in charms and transfiguration to her pleasure, and seemingly quite modest. Again, an interesting contradiction to what she would have expected. The two things that interested her most though were his first answer to one of her questions and his body language.

He had been pleasantly surprised that she had not recognized him? Harry Potter was not what she had expected. As he explained about his scar though she thought she understood and she truly felt for him. She, more than probably anyone in the stadium knew what it was like to be stared at for something that you could not control. Personally, though, she thought he may have had it worse than her. Sure, at least he was free of the knowledge that most of the people staring at you were either men, thinking the most perverted things imaginable, or women who were thinking the most spiteful and jealous things imaginable, but at least she was being looked at for something she was proud of, that being her Veela heritage, for him, she figured it would be a rather painful reminder of the loss of his only family.

Their conversation had been effectively put to a screeching halt when a man in Wimbourne Wasps Quidditch robes came charging into their box. Ludo, he had been called by the British Minister of Magic, and he began his commentary.

For a minute Gabrielle's heart leaped in anticipation that was until he introduced the Bulgarian team mascots and her emotions did a quick one-eighty.

Bulgaria was one of the most heavily populated countries in the world in terms of Veela and Gabrielle could see where this was going. The Veela would likely have offered themselves off as attractions, the mere thought disgusted her. Let alone the thought that there was always a slight chance some of them were there against their will.

For the life of her Gabrielle could not fathom why anyone would put themselves on display like that. And then they turned their allures to full blast and she wanted to vomit.

How could they do that? Did they realize… well no, of course they realized that most of the stadium was filled by males who would be more than likely helpless to resist. Did they not realize nor care that someone may do something stupid? Did they not realize the risks they were putting so many people at just for their own amusement? That's when Gabrielle registered the boy beside her was probably caught completely unaware and turned to be very surprised.

Most of the stadium were doing the most foolish of things some were dancing along, a glazed look in their eyes, some screaming to the Veela in a trance, some were throwing their most valuable possessions onto the field at the feet of the gathered Veela, Gabrielle even saw a few pour souls on the edge of the box.

For a split second she had thought Harry was about to do the same, he had lurched in that direction before suddenly falling back into his seat. He sat there for a moment before he broke out in a deep sweat, his face strained as if the effort of something was killing him, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.

She realize with shock what was happening he was resisting. The Veela allure was rather complex, it, for the most part was impossible for men to fully resist, but there were exceptions such as this. If a Veela was simply projecting her allure, it wasn't impossible to resist, it could be almost ignored by a very strong-willed wizard. However, if the Veela focused that power directly onto the person they had no hope, it was far more difficult than resisting the Imperius curse, and those who had an aptitude for resisting that curse fell victim to the allure just as easily as the average wizard.

So yes, in theory it was possible to resist those Veela on the pitch, they were merely projecting their power, but in such numbers she would have thought it impossible. It was clear that he was not unaffected, I mean, he had been about to jump and he was clearly going through the struggle of a lifetime, but she was utterly astonished at his ability to resist and gained a bit of admiration for Harry Potter in that moment.

Deciding to take pity on him, Gabrielle reached over to him and first tapped his shoulder receiving no response she took hold of his chin and forced him to look at her, his eyes were not glazed but full of the effort of resisting. For a split second she was tempted to just see if he could hold out, but her compassion won out. She looked Harry in the eye and focused her own power onto him.

"Harry look at me, znap out of it!"

…..

With a gasp Harry's mind cleared and he breathed out a long, deep breath as if he had just escaped a near drowning. For a minute his mind completely glazed over again as he looked into a pair of bright, blue eyes but then the sensation was gone as quickly as it had come.

With a jolt he realized Gabrielle was holding his chin up, her touch made his skin tingle and he had to fight back a goofy, yet contented smile.

She sighed and let her hand fall.

Harry sat there for a minute, audibly breathing heavily until Gabrielle moved again.

Harry felt her warm touch again though this time it was on his hand, he hadn't realized how tightly he had been clenching his fists, though he figured he must have exhausted himself in the effort, because even though he did not loosen his fists one bit, in a split second, and with apparent ease Gabrielle had pried his left hand open, and taking the queue Harry relaxed his right one.

Gabrielle made an annoyed sound as Harry looked at her. She had a firm yet gentle grip on the back of Harry's hand, and was holding it palm up, examining the bloody mess that his jagged nails had left behind.

"Idiots." Harry heard her murmur and then she did something that surprised him again.

She put her own hand on top of Harry's, before gently stroking the wounds with her fingertips and Harry felt a far more extreme sense of warmth spread throughout his body as his hand was cupped between both of hers. And then, to his astonishment, the stinging in his hand had left him as she pulled away and his skin was undamaged.

Harry's jaw fell open at this but it didn't last for long. Gabrielle still facing him had taken his other hand and done the same before he could react. Harry sat there slack-jawed, too many questions to ask.

"How did you?" Was what he settled on.

"Family magic," she answered simply, "my family tend to produce very exceptional natural healers.'

Harry nodded, he knew there was family magic that belonged to each of the old families, he had often wondered if his own family had some of their own, but had no one to show him even if they did.

"Those women?" Harry said, quietly, massaging his now healed palms. Gabrielle spoke before he could voice the rest of his question.

"Veela." She said, her voice disapproving.

"You don't like them?" Asked Harry.

Her face softened oddly.

"Quite ze opposite actually, I simply zink what zey did was unbelievably irresponsible, and zey risked lives for entertainment. Also, putting zemselves in the position zey did," she shook her head, she was clearly rather passionate about the issue, and although her French accent seemed to usually be feint, it was more pronounced now, "it is razzer disgraceful."

Harry didn't comment but asked another question.

'And what they did, I felt like my mind was blank?"

"Veela have an ability that draws men towards zem, and yes, I have heard it described in zat way before, do not be upset Arry, you did far better than any ozer man I saw in ze stadium."

"What do you mean by that?" Asked Harry curiously.

Gabrielle just scowled an expression that did not suit her angelic features.

"Look on ze pitch." She half prompted half commanded.

Harry looked down and saw a group of wizards collecting… valuables? Gold watches, pockets of Galleons, wallets, lockets, and other valuable items littered the field.

"Every male who was caught unaware zimply gave into the pull," said Gabrielle, her voice more measured now, back to how it was, soft and musical, "except you, you seemed to be able to fight it, and zat is very impressive."

She graced him with another one of her megawatt smiles at this and Harry couldn't help but smile back.

"I almost lost." He admitted.

"But you didn't." Reminded Gabrielle.

At that moment the last of the valuables had been taken off the field and Bagman was speaking once more.

"And now," roared Bagman "kindly put your wands in the air for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment what seemed to be a great green and gold comet had come zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling towards the goal posts. A rainbow arched suddenly across the pitch, connecting the two balls of light, the crowds owed and awed as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded, and the balls of light reunited and merged, they had formed a great, shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to sore over the stands, something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it

As the shamrock flew over them, heavy golden coins fell from it, bouncing off their heads and seats.

Squinting up at the shamrock, Harry realized it was actually composed of thousands of tiny little-bearded men with red waistcoats, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns." Said Gabrielle exasperatedly as much of the crowd fought tooth and nail for the gold around there. Something popped into Harry's mind and he burst out laughing, Gabrielle laughed as well, a soft, musical sound that put Harry at ease.

When he finished he smiled at her and asked.

"That gold is just going to vanish isn't it?"

Gabrielle suppressed a giggle and nodded, hiding her face behind her hand.

The shamrock landed on the opposite side of the pitch from the Veela, who had lined up without Harry noticing. The shamrock broke apart, and the leprechauns took their place, sitting cross-legged directly across from the Veela.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen kindly welcome the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you Dimitrov," a scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick moving so fast it was a blur shot out onto the pitch from an entrance far below to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters, "Ivanova," a second scarlet-robed figure zoomed out, "Zograv, Levski, Vulcanov, Vulkov aaaand Krum!"

Harry quickly focused his omnioculars onto the young phenom who had taken the Quidditch world by storm.

Viktor Krum was thick, dark-haired and sallow-skinned with a large curved nose, and dark, thick eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey, it was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

"And now please greet the Irish National Quidditch Team! Yelled Bagman. "Presenting, Connolly, Ryan, Troy, Mullet, Moran, Quigley, aaand Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the pitch, Harry spun a small dial on the side of his omnioculars and slowed the players down enough to see the word Firebolt printed on each of their brooms and see their names embroidered in silver upon their backs.

"And here, all the way from Egypt our referee, acclaimed chairwizzard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mustafa."

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a moustache to rival Uncle Vernon's, wearing completely gold robes to match the stadium strode out onto the pitch. A silver whistle was protruding from under his moustache, and he was carrying a large, wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other.

Harry spun the speed dial on his omnioculars back to normal as he watched Mustafa mount his broomstick and kicked the crate open. Four balls burst into the air, the scarlet quaffle, the two black bludgers and, (Harry saw it for the briefest moment before it sped out of sight) the minuscule gold, golden snitch.

With a sharp blast on his whistle Mustafa shot into the air after the balls, and the game began.

It was Quidditch unlike Harry had ever dreamed of. The speed of the chasers was mesmerizing, the quaffle a mere scarlet blurr as it passed from player to player at the speed of a bullet. The players were receiving, and either passing or losing the quaffle so fast Bagman only had time to say their names before he had to switch to the next.

Though both teams were quite obviously spectacular in their own right, it was quickly made obvious by the scoreboard that Ireland were going to be the dominant team. Their chaser line was just too dominant, and Bulgaria did not seem to have an answer for the Irish onslaught.

"Dimitrov, Levski, Dimitrov, Ivanova… OH I SAY!" Roared Bagman.

One hundred thousand wizards and witches gasped as the two seekers, Krum and Lynch plummeted through the center of the chasers so fast it had just looked as if they had jumped from airplanes without parachutes.

Harry followed their descent through his omnioculars, squinting to see where the snitch was.

"They're going to crash!" Screamed Gabrielle from beside Harry, but at that moment Harry had realized what was about to happen.

Having not seen the snitch, he had focused his eyes on Krum. Though Lynch, would never see it, Krum had just given himself away.

"FAINT!" Screamed Harry glee in his voice, knowing he was seconds away from winning at least a portion of his bet with Bagman.

Mere seconds later Harry was proven correct. At the very last second Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off, Lynch however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan raised from the Irish seats.

"It's timeout," roared Bagman's voice "as trained medi wizards hurry onto the pitch to examine Aidan Lynch."

In the pause, Gabrielle turned to look at Harry, awe evident in her breathtaking eyes.

"How did you know he was fainting?" She asked him, incredulously. "Even Lynch didn't know and he was right beside him."

Harry smiled a real smile at her, the butterflies gone, his body far too focused on the game itself to give into teenage hormones.

"You learn to look for things as a seeker," Harry half-yelled over the crowd, "Lynch would have never saw it, the only reason I did was these," he said, holding up the omnioculars, Gabrielle had a matching pair now in her lap due to the pause in play, "Krum looked at Lynch before looking back. That's a terrible, rookie mistake if you're a seeker. One of the very first things you're taught is to NEVER take your eyes off of the snitch. Krum is way too good to make a mistake like that, so I knew it was on purpose, so I could tell it was a faint." Harry explained.

Gabrielle looked impressed, and used her own omnioculars to rewatch the play before gasping, and looking back at Harry, surprise in her face.

"How on earth did you notice zat at full speed?" She asked.

He just smiled at her again.

"I told you, you learn to watch for these things as a seeker."

"You must be very good." Gabrielle commented enthusiastically. "I doubt most professionals would have been able to call zat."

Harry blushed again, but returned a rather awkward smile.

The game went on until finally they dove yet again.

"Anozer faint?" Asked Gabrielle, screaming over the crowd.

Harry did not answer right away, assessing the positioning before responding seconds before it happened.

"No, but Lynch is still eating the pitch!"

A second later there was a second thud, as Lynch made impact with the ground, and to the amazement of many, Viktor Krum rose slowly into the air, his blood-streaked face still a scowl as he held the golden snitch up for all to see.

The scoreboard was flashing:

BULGARIA 160-IRELAND 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as if a great jumbo jet was revving up the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" Shouted Bagman, who, like the Irish seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match. "Krum gets the snitch, but Ireland win! Good lord I don't think any of us were expecting that."

"What did he catch ze snitch for?" Asked Gabrielle, even as she was on her feet politely applauding with the rest. "Ireland was160 points ahead."

"He knew they were never going to catch up." Harry was also applauding loudly, even as he yelled over the crowd to Gabrielle, who was standing just beside him. "The Irish chasers were too good, he was saving Bulgaria from a blowout. He wanted to end it on his terms."

After the presentation of the Quidditch World Cup itself, Harry told Gabrielle he would be right back and scrambled over to Bagman.

"They'll be talking about this one for years." He said in a horse voice. "Really unexpected twist that." And then he saw Harry, and he smiled in an exasperated manner. "Ah yes, I owe you, how much?"

Harry took his gold, as well as the gold for Fred and George as well and began to make his way down the stairs. Gabrielle and her family right behind him.

"Mate!" He heard Ron cry, as soon as he reached the bottom. "What a match eh! What a bloody…" and then his jaw fell open, as his eyes fell on Gabrielle behind him, Harry could only picture the thoughts racing through his mind. Ron had made a bit of a fool of himself earlier in her presence as well. Harry decided to save him and turned to Gabrielle.

"A pleasure meeting you Ms. Delecour, you too, Monsieur Delacour, and Mrs. Delecour and Ms. Delecour."

"Ze pleasure was all mine Arry." Said Gabrielle softly, as she leaned down to kiss him on the cheek, a motion that left him blushing to his roots, and now he found his own mind go blank as warmth spread throughout his body from the spot her lips had touched him.

Harry, along with the Weasley party slowly made their way back to their campsite, Harry, Ron, the twins, Ginny, Bill and Charlie, gossiping about the match all the way. However, not even the talk of Quidditch could distract Harry, as he kept touching the spot where Gabrielle's lips had touched his cheek, the spot actually felt warm to the touch, and he figured that that night, his mind would be hard pressed to push a beautiful blonde out of its eye.

 **Authors Endnote.**

 **Wow! This turned out to be WAY longer than I had expected. This was a very difficult chapter to write, but despite that it was one of the most fun chapters I have ever had the pleasure of writing, so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

 **Apologies in advance to my betas for this one, I'm sure there are quite a few errors due to writer fatigue.**

 **Next chapter, the dark mark is fired into the sky, and Harry and his friends find themselves in a most terrible position.**


	6. The Dark Mark

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and therefore do not make any money off of my works, I own only my own imagination and nothing more.**

 **Authors Note 1**

 **Feel free to skip the AN if you'd like, but I do address a few issues that have been brought up.**

 **Authors Note 2**

 **Thank you for the support on the last chapter! By far the most reviews I have received on a chapter in this story and basically all positive! If you guys could keep the reviews up it would be greatly appreciated. There are two concerns that keep popping up in reviews, and this one had them all, so I will quote it here. This is not the entire review, the entire thing would be way too long to copy here, but here is the direct quote from the end of said review along with my reply:**

 **Rasengan: Please don't make Harry madly in love with her in the beginning. In fact, Gabby should try and get his attention. Also don't make Harry a weakling.**

 **My Response: Harry will not be madly in love with her. Remember when you were in elementary school and there was that really cute girl/boy who you thought was super attractive and you had a crush on, but nothing serious. Harry pretty much feels like that, which would not be enough for him to act on normally, but as you will see later it will come about in a way that I feel is natural. As for Gabby chasing Harry, that won't happen. It is just not fitting of her character in this story, she will certainly interact with him, but she won't try to get his attention per say. Finally, Harry is not, and will not be weak. I have actually been accused of making him overpowered in the past. He will be very powerful in this series as well. I would say he is nowhere near there yet, but he will get there. This chapter should give you all a pretty good idea where he is currently at, but he will get far more skilled and more powerful.**

 **I hope that cleared up those concerns, if you have anymore questions feel free to leave them in a review or a PM.**

 **Authors Note 2**

 **I had said the only change was that Harry was essentially smarter and of course Sirius. However, that is not true, there is one I forgot to mention, Harry is far more independent in this story, and far less open. For example, Ron knows nothing about the Dursleys. Only what he assumes from rescuing Harry after first year. They also weren't with him at the end of first year when he went after the stone for example. Essentially he is more closed off and more independent, which is typical for abused/neglected children from what I have researched.**

Authors Note 3

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and SonofPoseidon2018 for their work on this story.**

"Speach"

'Internal Dialogue'

 _ **French**_

 **Chapter 6 The Dark Mark.**

Harry and the Weasley's gathered in the boys' tent and discussed the match for a very long time. If Harry had to guess he would have guessed somewhere in the region of two hours.

Most seemed in awe at Krum, Harry was very impressed but not blown away. He had been brilliant, yes, but he had also given himself away during the faint, something that Harry viewed as a very simple mistake.

It wasn't until Ginny stifled a massive yawn behind her hand that Mr. Weasley finally spoke up.

"I think it's time for bed." He said with a kind smile. "We'll be up early tomorrow, but it will be a reasonable hour, seven thirty sound agreeable to everyone?"

Everyone nodded in consent and Arthur shooed them off to bed before he left to get ready himself though he pulled Harry aside.

"What did Fudge want with you?" He asked, concern evident in his voice.

Harry just shrugged as a reply.

"To show me off to the other ministers and high ranking officials, nothing special, nothing we wouldn't have expected."

Arthur seemed relieved at this but quickly seemed to become uncomfortable.

"About the whole thing Harry… I'm sorry about that, I probably should have… well, Molly would have killed me if she was…."

"There's no need to apologize Mr. Weasley." Harry cut him off with a smile. "It wasn't high on my list of desires but it really wasn't bad, I even got to meet some interesting people. Besides, I know it would have looked terrible if you went against him. Nothing to apologize for."

Arthur seemed to let out a breath as he nodded.

"Thank you, Harry." Was all he said before he too went off to get changed.

Harry got changed himself and clambered into the bunk bed above Ron. He had only been laying there for a few moments when Ron spoke.

"How was the minister's box?"

"It was fine" Harry responded neutrally, "a bit annoying when he tried to show me off like a prized puppy but the view was nice."

"You sure you weren't just staring at that girl?" His tone was an odd mix of teasing, jealousy, and longing.

Harry blushed, but Ron being beneath him and it being dark could not see it.

"Your hardly one to talk, you were gaping at her like a fish out of water. Besides, she's so far out of my league it wouldn't even matter."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Grumbled Ron in response to the second part of Harry's statement. Harry smirked in satisfaction knowing that Ron had no comeback for his jab.

"What about those Veela eh?" He asked his voice definitely more in the vicinity of longing now.

"What about them?" Asked Harry.

"Everything." Said Ron in a somewhat dreamy voice. "I mean look at them mate, they were the most gorgeous women I've ever seen, and that weird thing they did with the music and when they transformed."

Harry just nodded, though again Ron couldn't see it, so he chose to answer after all.

"I don't like the power they have over us."

"Why not?" Asked Ron, sounding incredulous. "It felt amazing."

"I don't like people in my head," Harry answered with finality, thinking of his connection to Voldemort, and his general sense of privacy.

"Suit yourself," said Ron through a yawn, "I think I'll have to bag myself a Veela."

"Best of luck with that." Said Harry with a smirk.

"Don't sound so doubtful." Said Ron.

"If you say so, night Ron."

"Night Harry."

Harry drifted to sleep quickly after being exhausted through his restful night did not last long.

…..

Gabrielle had not been asleep for long when she had been awakened.

Her family was on a large bit of private land on the campsite. Their tent, though ordinary looking from the outside was quite lavish on the inside, with ten full sized bedrooms. Inside the tent were Gabrielle, Fleur, their parents, their younger cousin Zoe on their mother's side and her parents.

Gabrielle awoke and was looking into the eyes of her father.

" _Get dressed now Gabrielle, we need to get moving."_

" _What has happened, papa?"_ Gabrielle asked, instantly awake and on guard.

" _Some idiots have decided to make a sport out of the muggles who own the campsite and are advancing, I need to assist the ministry and you need to get into the woods where they will not come for you."_

Gabrielle could recognize when her father was being serious, despite the fact that he joked around with her quite a lot. This was certainly not one of those times, it was one of the times she had seen him at his most serious.

" _Ok, papa."_ She answered, immediately reaching for a warm sweater.

" _Meet in the living room in five minutes."_ Were her fathers parting words before leaving her.

Five minutes later the Delecours and their cousins were gathered in the entrance.

" _Myself, Apoline, Dante and Claire_ (Zoe's parents, Claire is a Veela, Dante a ministry official) _will go aid the ministries. Fleur, you are of age, I will not tell you how to act, you can do as you please, but if you choose to come with us you will obey me at all times no matter what I command you to do, are we understood?"_

" _Yes, papa"_ answered Fleur without hesitation as she drew her wand. " _I am coming with you."_

" _I suspected as much."_ He then turned to Gabrielle. " _You will take your cousin into the woods, take her deep into the woods and if anyone threatens either of you in any way you have my permission to use any spell you deem necessary, and I would be disappointed in you if you held back and it resulted in you or Zoe being hurt. Do you understand Gabrielle?"_ He asked urgently as he looked into his daughter's eyes. Gabrielle nodded grimly as she took hold of Zoe's hand as the little girl leaned into her nervously and Gabrielle wrapped a protective arm around her.

" _Yes, papa."_

" _Good, go, we will make sure you make it to the woods before we leave."_

" _I'm scared."_ Piped up Zoe, her voice shaking.

Gabrielle pulled her in close and lifted her up into her arms.

" _It's ok, I promise I won't let anything happen to you."_

" _Go!"_ Exclaimed her father.

Gabrielle, with the little eight-year-old Veela in her arms, took off at breakneck speed towards the woods, easily pulling away from the rest due to her enhanced speed.

…..

"Harry Ron, get up now."

It was the voice of Mr. Weasley that pulled Harry from the land of dreams, and he sounded far more serious than Harry had ever heard him sound before.

"What's going on?" Harry heard Ron's groggy voice ask from the bunk beneath him.

"Just get dressed now and meet us in the sitting room." Were Mr. Weasley's parting words.

Sensing danger, Harry threw on his loosest and most comfortable clothes under a traveling cloak and made sure his wand was in his pocket (which it was) before making his way into the sitting room, Ron at his side.

The entire group was gathered there, all of them looking grim, the adults had a look of angry determination plastered on their faces.

"What's going on?" Ron asked immediately.

"Some drunken idiots decided to attack some muggles, but they're coming this way." Explained Mr. Weasley. "Get to the woods."

They all fought their way towards the forest while those of age (Arthur, Bill, Charlie, and Percy) made their way towards the conflict itself.

In the chaos Ginny, Fred and George were lost and Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked into the forest alone.

"They're masks." Said Ron, sounding nervous. "They're like the masks that dad said the death eaters wore."

"The who?" Asked Hermione, sounding confused for once in her life.

"The death eaters," Harry answered for Ron, having researched the group on his own time, "it's the name given to Voldemort's lackeys in the first war."

"You don't reckon he's here do you Harry?" Asked Ron concerned. He knew from the bits Harry had told him about the end of first year that Voldemort wasn't dead.

"No," Harry answered without hesitation. "I would know."

"You're sure?"

"Yes Ron, every time when he's been near me before my scar burns like hell, besides, he's too smart to come out into the open until he's at full power, and trust me, he's not, he's not even close."

Ron nodded, seeming at least slightly satisfied with that answer.

They weren't far into the woods when they heard a dark chuckle from behind them. All three spun, drawing their wands as they did to see the pale face of Draco Malfoy smiling at them as he leaned lazily against a tree, looking oddly small without his two hulking bodyguards.

"A little jumpy are we?" Asked Malfoy, seemingly at ease.

"Some of us actually have to worry for our safety Malfoy." Spat Ron.

"What on earth are you implying Weasley?" Drawled Malfoy, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Stop the act Malfoy, we both know your dad's under one of those masks out there, probably leading the whole thing."

Malfoy smirked at Ron, an evil glint in his eye.

"I hope so Weasley, I really do."

Ron made to step towards him but Harry stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"We don't have time for this idiot Ron, we've got to go."

"I'd be careful Potter, traveling with the likes of…"

"Make a comment about Hermione's blood and it will be me who deals with you here and now Malfoy, not Ron, and no bodyguards to help you now."

With that, the golden trio made their way deeper into the forest.

A few times they were startled by noises, but they all turned out to be nothing. That was until they came to a clearing.

There were a large number of Veela, though Harry knew none of them had their allures on, he still had to consciously resist the thoughts that crept into his head. He heard Ron cry out in pain as he saw Hermione shift her weight as if she had just stomped on his foot.

They had to walk through the clearing so they continued and Harry stopped.

In the clearing was a man Harry vaguely remembered… the man from the Knight Bus… Shunpike, Stan Shunpike.

He was trying (and failing) to chat up the Veela, one in particular. The young woman seemed to have a child in her arms and she was trying to edge past him but he kept cutting her off. Harry vaguely recognized her before realizing she wasn't a Veela at all, but he had mistaken her for one due to the odd similarities in height and appearance.

"C'mon miss, I could apparate you out of here and we could go and get a drink. I'm sure you'd enjoy yourself."

The woman… Gabrielle tried to edge passed again and Stan grabbed her arm, with an unbelievable display of speed and… strength, technique? Gabrielle had swept the man off of his feet, she had just moved and he was on his back. As she tried to walk away he got to his feet and made to go after her.

"Petrificus Totalus."

The jet of purple light fired from Harry's wand hit the man in the back and he fell ridged as a board.

Gabrielle spun wand in hand, the tip glowing an odd blue colour when she saw Harry, she lowered her wand, she looked at the two with him and raised an eyebrow.

"Did ze people wiss you really let ssree fourteen-year-olds run off on zeir own?"

Harry tried not to feel hurt at that but he could see where she was coming from. Seeing as Ron had seemingly lost the ability to speak Harry spoke up.

"There were three more of us but we got caught up in the rush and separated."

Gabrielle nodded and gestured for them to follow her as she made her way deeper into the forest.

Harry sped up to catch up, Ron made to do the same but Hermione held him back, fearing he'd make a fool of himself, so they fell a few paces behind as Harry fell into step with the older girl.

"Any spot in particular?" He asked, gesturing ahead of them.

"Non" answered Gabrielle, "just deeper into ze woods." She seemed to hesitate for a second before asking. "If ze worst 'appens and we are attacked how useful will you and your friends be? Or will I 'ave to protect all ssree of you as well? " Her tone wasn't accusing, just concerned. "I do not mean to be rude" she added, "I 'ave no problem wiss 'elping you, but I need to know what I am working wiss."

"I can fight," Harry answered immediately. "I don't know about a duel, but I know how to fight, Hermione is brilliant but I don't know about her combat ability, and to be honest," he said lowering his voice, "Ron has good instincts but his spell arsenal is little to none."

Gabrielle nodded.

"You seem more confident now." She noted glancing at him.

His face morphed into a slightly pained expression.

"This isn't new for me."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't ask anything further on that matter.

"If we are attacked by only one, can you defend yourself while I get Zoe to safety?" She asked, indicating the small girl who was asleep in her arms.

"I'll be fine," Harry answered, not really sure of that but sounding confident nonetheless.

She smiled softly at him.

"If zere is multiple attackers I will try and 'elp, but I do not want to put Zoe in ze line of fire."

"It's fine, I understand." Said Harry honestly.

They walked in silence for quite the time before something finally happened.

An ear piercing scream rang out from up ahead and Harry tensed. He looked to Gabrielle and then gestured ahead, she just nodded readying her wand in a defensive position.

"Wands at the ready," Harry told his two friends who drew them, looking mildly worried.

When they came into the next clearing there were three large men, two of them hulking figures and one reasonably built.

On the ground in front of them were two blonde women.

One of the girls spotted Gabrielle and her eyes widened in realization and she looked more panicked than ever.

"Well well," drawled the less hulking of the three men "we come for a nice night of fun and leave with two prizes."

Gabrielle was shaking with fury and stepped forward, Harry tried to stop her but she just shoved him out of the way with a surprising amount of strength.

"Stop!" She spoke in a loud carrying voice that carried very little of its usually musical tone.

The men turned around and. They were not wearing a mask but Harry could not identify them.

"Well, what do we have here?" Asked the man who at this point Harry was assuming was the ringleader. "Another Veela slut? How very intriguing."

"Release zem zis instant." Gabrielle's wand was shaking as she held the girl in one arm, her rage practically emanating from her.

Harry was with her but he was up for just cursing the idiots, none of this talking business.

"And why on earth would we do that when we could just take you as well and get rid of your friends? Crabbe, Goyle take her."

The two hulking figures who Harry knew to be Crabbe and Goyle's fathers stepped forward and raised their wands.

Before they could fire off anything two spells shot from Gabrielle's wand, Harry recognized the first as a stunner but didn't have time to gage the second. The two men raised shields at the last second to absorb the spells. Gabrielle made to fire again but the man in the lead moved to her side and out of her line of vision.

"Stupefy."

The jet of red light shot towards Gabrielle who realized her mistake too late.

"Protego." Harry moved faster than the spell, lunging between Gabrielle and the red light and raising a shield which easily absorbed the blast.

"I was not done with her boy, it was not your t…"

"Everte Statum!" The ball of blue energy erupted out of Harry's wand and rocketed towards the man mid-sentence, he raised a hasty shield which only partially blocked the spell. The shield took the brunt of it but the man was still sent staggering back, visibly wincing in pain.

From the light of Harry's spell, however, his face, and more importantly, his forehead had been illuminated.

"Well, speak of prizes, Harry Potter." The man looked from Harry to Gabrielle and smirked. By this point Gabrielle had moved to the side and set Zoe behind Ron and Hermione, her wand was now out and she seemed ready to fight."I'll make you a deal girl," the man addressed Gabrielle with a smirk, "I will release your pathetic parasites if Potter can beat me in a duel. If not, I'll take them and himself, and you can walk free."

"We will take zem one way or ano…"

"I accept." The words had come from Harry's mouth before he had even thought, as he stepped forward.

"Harry!" Exclaimed Hermione trying to rush forward but a sickly looking Ron held her back, he, as a pureblood knew that once a challenge like that was accepted they couldn't just run in and intervene.

It was Gabrielle's expression that hit home though. Shock, disbelief, fear and something else were reflected in those mesmerizing orbs she had for eyes.

The man laughed, it was not quite as bone-chilling as Voldemort's, but it was not too far off.

"Do you now Potter? You think because you got lucky as an infant you have what it takes do you?"

"Enough talking." Was the simple answer as he stepped forward but Gabrielle grabbed his arm and spoke.

"I will take his place," she said frantically "I am ze more experienced duelist."

"I think not Veela, he has already locked himself in."

Harry pulled free while he could and stepped forward.

"Rules?" He asked simply.

"There are none." Was the simple reply.

"Path to victory?"

"When one of us can not continue." The man said this last bit with a rather malicious smile.

"Restrictions?"

"None."

"Fine."

"Good, let us begin, Avada Kedavra."

Harry heard multiple screams as the jet of green light hurtled towards him and those near the line of fire scattered.

Harry rolled to the side, skillfully and gracefully avoiding death as he fired a spell in mid-roll, still on the ground as he had a clear shot at the man's legs.

"Mobilicorpus." The leg locker almost worked, the man sidestepped at the last second and fired a blasting curse where he knew Harry would come up and out of his roll. Harry shielded easily enough and returned fire.

…..

Gabrielle watched with bated breath as the fourteen-year-old boy traded spells with the grown wizard. She was sure he would fall in seconds but he didn't. In fact, it was several minutes before anything significant happened at all.

"Crucio." Gabrielle gasped as the torture curse shot towards Harry but he sidestepped easily. The other man had already conjured a wolf and sent it straight at Harry.

"Impedimenta." The wolf froze in its step as Harry had obviously intended but Gabrielle could see his inexperience as he made his first mistake. The man had not stopped with the wolf, while Harry's attention was on it he had sent a bludgeoning curse straight at his chest. She was going to scream at him but again the unearthly reflexes of the boy impressed her even if it wasn't enough.

Harry lunged to the side. He dodged most of the curse but it still grazed his ribs, something Gabrielle knew would leave damage. He took it in stride, going into a roll as the spell interrupted his lunge, using the momentum of the blast to roll further despite the grimace on his face.

"Expelliarmus." The man raised a shield, easily ready to defend the fairly rudimentary jinx when Gabrielle's eyes widened. It was not the disarming but the reductor curse that flew from his wand.

"Magnifique." She muttered.

It was obvious what he had done. He had been verbally casting the entire duel for this moment. Making the man believe he could only cast verbally had been brilliant. He had shouted the incantation for one spell but actually cast a completely different spell non verbally throwing the man off guard and catching him completely unprepared. But to cast nonverbally before even starting your fourth year? That was very impressive. Gabrielle was brilliant in charms and transfiguration and she had not managed it until the very end of her fourth year, at which point she had been fifteen.

The man was thrown off guard as he lunged to the side but was caught in the face with a nonverbal cutting curse that left a bloody gash down his cheek as he cried out in pain.

He fired a few minor jinxes towards Harry who just shielded. Gabrielle knew at once he had made his second mistake of the duel.

"Bombarda Maxima."

Harry couldn't lower his shield for the worry of one of his other spells getting through, but he couldn't see where the curse had been fired, his vision being abstracted by the already incoming barrage.

The curse, one far too powerful to be blocked by a mere Protego slammed into his shield.

His shield held much better than she would have thought possible though. It shattered but absorbed double what she had expected it to. Instead of Harry's chest being blown open like she had thought would happen, he was blasted back as his shoulder gave a nasty crack and blood sprayed from it.

He flew backward and smacked hard, back first into the ground.

She wanted so badly to run forward but couldn't so she just screamed.

…..

Harry thought he was doing alright until he heard bombarda maxima cried out and he knew he was in trouble.

Seeing nothing for it, he redoubled his efforts with his shield. It was still blown to bits but to his relief he was alive.

Despite that it was agony. Flying through the air and smacking the ground sucked but it was nothing compared to his shoulder. The part of the curse that had got through hit him directly in the left shoulder, thank god it had not been his wand arm, but still, he was in a bad way.

He felt something crack and then a searing pain as he saw a chunk of something, probably bone break the skin.

He was dazed on impact but the scream broke him out of it.

He rolled on instinct and the killing curse missed him by inches as he scrambled to his feet again knowing he had to end it.

He focused all of his magic, holding it back as much as possible, just letting it build until it was ready as he dodged another cutting and torture curse respectively until he was ready. Still holding back first barrage.

"Stupefy." The man dodged the first with ease but to his great surprise Harry had fired off four stunners in the blink of an eye with that one incantation. Rapid casting was quite a rare ability.

The man had no choice but to raise a shield.

Quickly Harry fired a silent bludgeoner to either side of his shield, effectively trapping the man before letting out all of his power into his next two spells.

"Reducto!"

The bolt of red energy flew from his wand and struck the shield. The shield fell and the man was blasted backward still managing to stay on his feet but to off balanced to dodge. He raised his wand probably to shield again and that was his last mistake.

"Bombarda."

The blasting curse hit the man square in the hand, with a sickening crack like a gunshot the man's wand snapped and with a sickening crunch his hand was blasted clean off of his wrist.

The man fell to the ground in agony as Harry cast again.

"Stupefy." He said, the jet of red light hitting the man and leaving him stunned, before muttering quietly "incarcerous." Ropes shot from Harry's wand and bound the man.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed and made to launch herself at Harry but Gabrielle caught her midway, literally caught her, as she had lunged at Harry, and forced her back.

"He is injured, ze last ssing he needs it for you to worsen his condition."

She made to turn when one of the two large men spat out.

"Crucio."

Caught completely off guard, Harry was knocked off of his feet as the pain set in. Pain like nothing he had ever felt before, it was blinding, it obscured every sense every thought. And then it was over and Harry felt as if he was encased in warmth as a heavenly scent overtook him.

He opened his eyes and looked up into the eyes of the girl who had been on his mind for the better part of the day. He was propped up in her lap in a sitting position her arms wrapped around him as his body finally began to stop shaking from the effects of the cruciatus curse, his head had apparently slumped because it was currently resting on her shoulder.

"Go and find a medic?" Gabrielle instructed one of the Veela who had obviously been freed while Harry was not paying attention, or being tortured. She made to leave when a new voice spoke from somewhere in the shadows.

"Morsmordre!"

A sickly green light shot straight upwards into the sky from the point in which the voice had sounded. When the light reached the sky it transformed and took shape.

Hovering just above the tree line was a skull with a serpent hanging out of its mouth.

Harry growled in anger and made to get up but with the adrenaline gone and his body failing him he couldn't separate himself from Gabrielle who seemed to be in no hurry to let him go.

"Do not be stupid." She chided him. "Movement will only cause you to lose more blood."

Then the sound of so many cracks it sounded like gunfire filled the air. Instinctively Harry raised his wand as much as he could in his position.

"Protego."

"STUPEFY!"

…..

The spells flew everywhere and Gabrielle knew she was about to be hit. Her arms were wrapped around the boy, she could feel him getting heavier and leaning on her more as she could literally feel the strength leave his body along with the blood. But it didn't.

"Protego."

She was shocked as his shield went up around them. About a dozen stunners slammed into the shield but it did not fall despite it faltering. Harry winced, and she could feel a great deal of his energy leave in that one moment as he fell against her nearly limp.

"STOP! THAT'S MY SON!"

The tall, balding, red-haired man Gabrielle had seen Harry leave with earlier stormed forwards clearly furious.

"He was found at the sight of a crime." Another man spat back.

"Are you accusing my son Amos?"

"No Arthur" the man backtracked at the surprisingly dangerous tone of the seemingly cheerful man from earlier, "I am only making an observation."

"Than you will kindly stop firing at him and his friends."

It was at this moment the man's eyes landed on them and they widened before he went pale.

"Harry?" He asked, sounding panicked.

"We need a medic." Said Gabrielle at once, standing to her feet pulling the boy with her. He tried to stand but couldn't so she just scooped the weakly protesting boy off the ground, thanking her heightened strength. He wasn't heavy as is, but her Veela nature made this much easier.

"I can walk." He argued weakly to no avail as his head dropped onto her shoulder and his shield finally sputtered out. It was clear that the last bit of energy he had had been used repelling a dozen spells at once.

" _What has happened Gabrielle?"_ A familiar voice asked in French.

Gabrielle looked up to see her father striding towards them his wand drawn and a grim look on his face.

" _The Veela here were being held hostage and we tried to intervene."_

" _Tried?"_ Her father asked in concern.

" _They saw Harry Potter was one of us and demanded to duel him, I tried to take his place but he accepted without hesitating. He won the duel but took a portion of a maximized blasting curse to the shoulder and was then blindsided with the cruciatus after the fact. Me and the brown-haired girl dealt with the two idiots,"_ she shook her head towards the two huge men laying on the ground, " _and then the mark was fired into the sky."_

Her father gave her explanation to a stern looking ministry man whom he had called Crouch.

"Where was the mark cast from miss?" He asked sharply.

"In ze forest behind me." She said, unable to point still holding a now near unconscious boy, he had lost a lot of blood. "Where is a medic?"

Finally, a witch stepped forward and Gabrielle set Harry down and stepped back.

As Crouch went into the woods to inspect the crime scene the rest watched with bated breath as the woman examined Harry.

"He will be fine but will need to take it easy for a number of days." She then addressed Harry, who had still somehow not given in to the blood loss. "I am going to close the wound Mr. Potter but it will be extremely painful, I will also need to extract a piece of shrapnel before it can be done."

He didn't even react aside from a weak nod.

The witch moved her wand in an intricate pattern causing a jagged rock to shoot out of the wound. There was a sharp intake of breath from Harry but no further reaction.

"And now for the really unpleasant bit." She warned.

She closed it and immediately requested a blood replenishing potion, another man stepped forward, citing that he had retrieved one from the ministry in the midst of the chaos.

…..

It was a very unsteady Harry Potter that braced himself to stand up a few minutes later.

Ron and Hermione had already gone back to the tent with Percy, Charlie, and Bill, along with Ginny and the twins under instruction from Mr. Weasley who Harry had thought was going to wait for him but apparently was wrong.

Harry got to his feet and stumbled but immediately was caught and was being gently pulled from the clearing.

"I asked if I could walk you back," Gabrielle said, her arm around Harry's shoulders to keep him steady. Harry, who was still rather shaky did not mind, at least he was actually being allowed to walk this time.

"Why would you do that?" He asked, leaning on her a bit more as the ground sloped upwards.

"To ssank you." She answered easily.

"For what?"

"You did not 'ave to fight zem, I would 'ave done it myself."

"He challenged me."

"But you could 'ave declined."

"And left those Veela to him?"

"Veela who you didn't even know."

"You didn't either." He pointed out.

"No, but zere were ozer factors zat lead to me stepping in." She said quietly. "Sizer way, ssank you Arry, you did not 'ave to help zem, and I am sorry you got hurt doing it." She finished sincerely.

"I didn't get hurt that bad" he tried, "I've had worse than a gash on my shoulder."

"You are very modest after all." She observed as they came to the Weasley's tent.

"This one is mine," Harry informed her, for some reason not wanting to stop leaning on her warm frame.

Gabrielle walked him to the entrance before pulling him into a soft hug that surprised him. He tensed for just a second before subconsciously melting into the embrace.

He had been hugged before, by Hermione, the overwhelming bookworm who clung to him as if he was her anchor to the world, having grown up isolated and friendless. By Mrs. Weasley, the matron who held him so tightly he could hardly breathe as if she was trying to shelter him from the horrors of the world around him. But this was different. Having not grown up in a house where any contact aside from a good beating was encouraged in regards to Harry, he had never enjoyed being touched or let alone hugged. But this was different, it just felt right.

Gabrielle did not crush to overwhelm him, it was just a comfortable feeling, and unnaturally warm, he felt his body just relax and he couldn't explain it.

And then it was over and she was smiling at him.

"Goodnight Arry, I hope we see each ozer again." She said softly before giving him another soft kiss on the cheek before walking away.

Harry, slightly leaning on the tent felt the place her lips had touched his skin for the second time that day, his body feeling oddly cold and exposed now.

"Goodnight Gabrielle." He whispered quietly into the night before gingerly making his way to bed.

Authors Endnote.

I am sorry for the delay with this chapter, I became quite sick last week and really wasn't in a good place to write until Saturday, and even then I was probably rushing a bit so I hope this chapter came out alright.

The next one will be out more quickly, though I am afraid there will be no Harry/Gabrielle interaction in that one.

Thank you once more to my betas James Marx and SonofPoseidon2018 for their work on this chapter, and as always I will see you in the next one.


	7. Trust Your Heart

**Disclaimer: As always I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters, settings or plot. I own only my own imagination and am simply trying to put it to good use.**

 **Authors Note**

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and SonofPoseidon2018 for their work on this story.**

 **"Speech"**

' **Internal Dialogue'**

 **French**

 **Chapter 7 Trust Your Heart.**

The next day was not an easy one for Harry Potter, nor was the day after that, nor the day after that. Harry's shoulder, though it had been healed had also been badly damaged, and he found it very difficult to use it for much in the next few days, though it did steadily improve without further attention.

His ribs were bruised badly enough, but they weren't too serious, it made everything he did painful and certainly made him less mobile, though it was nothing of real concern.

Within a few days, Harry was back on his feet, his body fully recovered from the events of the Quidditch World Cup. His mind, on the other hand, was anything but ready to move on.

Try as he might he couldn't get the blonde girl… Gabrielle out of his head. It wasn't even that he felt lustful, or that he was attracted to her, it was just that she had left a mark on him.

He would wake up each morning, wrapped in his blankets reminded of what it felt like in her warm embrace, the feeling of warmth, comfort and safety, along with her scent was practically imprinted in his mind and Harry was very unsure what to do about it. If nothing else, he supposed it was much better than his mind being plagued by visions of Voldemort.

'Yes, a beautiful, kind girl was certainly easier to think about than a bloodthirsty dark lord who wants to kill me.' He thought, smirking at the thought despite himself.

When Harry's body was finally back to normal though, life at the Burrow continued much the same as it had before the Quidditch World Cup, Harry played Quidditch with all of the Weasley's, discussed fascinating bits of magic with Hermione, and schemed and experimented with the twins exclusively.

Harry had always been friends with the twins, though this summer he had sensed that their friendship had been taken to the next level.

They had always casually joked but never talked like they had this summer. Harry, Fred, and George would spend hours just joking, laughing and talking. Harry found they were just as easy, if not easier to talk to then his two best friends, and the twins shared the sentiment, jokingly (or so Harry thought) calling Harry their honorary brother by the end of the summer. The mix of Harry trusting them, as well as hard work and a good amount of laughs, had brought the trio much closer over the summer break and Harry could only hope that bond continued into his fourth year at Hogwarts.

It was with very mixed emotions that the last day of the summer holidays came around and Harry, along with Hermione and the Weasley clan was eating a massive dinner out in the backyard, similar to how they had done the same thing only weeks earlier on Harry's birthday.

Also like that night, Fred and George, with the help of Harry this time, surprised them all with a rigged firework show in commemoration of the end of, what the twins called.

"Their homework free liberty."

Harry went to bad that night already packed, though he was fully expecting the rest of the household, (minus Hermione) to be in a panicked frenzy that next morning.

…..

Gabrielle Delacour wasn't sure what to think as she lay awake in her bed on the last night of her summer vacations. She was about to enter her sixth year at Beauxbatons and was about to be taking her SMEE's (Standardized Magical Evaluation Exams) at the end of the year.

As much as it was going to be a stressful year, Gabrielle was very much looking forward to it. She had always loved school, she was an academic at heart, even if she would never be classed as a nerd by any means.

She did despised potions, though she thought that was probably more to do with the fact that. Beauxbatons had a terrible potions program and that she was dreadful at the subject as a whole.

However strongly she disliked potions she made up for it in her other subjects, three in particular. Charms, Transfiguration and Arithmancy.

Charms was her favourite by far, though she suspected her talent in the subject played quite the roll in that. She had always been gifted in charms and hailed by many as a prodigy in the subject. She had some of the highest marks in the history of Beauxbatons in the area, top five for sure even if she would never touch Nicholas Flamel's school records.

Her Veela magic leant itself very well to charms. It was considered light magic, and not what the ministry considered light magic, it was proper light magic as classified by those who had a clue. Despite their categorization as dark creatures by some of the more bigoted governments, Veela were, in reality, light creatures, and therefore light magic came very easily to them if they had the gift to channel their magic through a tool.

Quite a few Veela were useless with a wand. They could perform wandless magic naturally, as could almost all near-human species of magical creatures, however, society essentially forced them to use wands if in public. Wandless magic was not illegal in the slightest, in fact, in the unbelievably rare case that a witch or wizard could perform it, it would be blasted out to the world, a sign of pride. Some governments though, they frowned upon Veela using it, they were afraid of their power quite frankly and wanted to limit it as much as possible without being blatantly obvious in their pathetic bigotry.

The flaw with this ability though is that some Veela never made a smooth transition to using a wand. Some of them just couldn't accurately and precisely channel their magic through a wand. Thank goodness Gabrielle, like her mother had never had such an issue.

So yes, without that issue Gabrielle's light blood worked very well with charms, and the subject had always interested her greatly.

Transfiguration was an odd case. As far as Veela went, you either thrived in the subject or were completely and utterly useless with no hope of ever improving. Transfiguration was, in a technical matter of speaking, dark magic, and therefore, the light blood of Veela had the potential to sometimes make the subject difficult as it was a direct contradiction to their nature.

On the flip side of the coin though, transfiguration required a great deal of focus and control in regards to one of two things that all Veela were essentially guaranteed to have.

So essentially, if a Veela could get over the light and dark clash they were almost guaranteed to be gifted at the subject.

Unlike many of her brethren, Gabrielle had been blessed in this area, having never had an issue with the subject. Though interestingly enough, most Veela did rather well in potions, having harmony with many of the ingredients, and natural focus, but Gabrielle was lucky to get a pass on a potions assignment.

Arithmancy had nothing to do with blood, Gabrielle had just always been very interested in the subject. From a young age, she had wanted to create her own spells and that was impossible without mastering arithmancy. So, her love for the subject was born out of necessity.

She also enjoyed ancient runes, for the challenge of the subject if for nothing else, and loved care of magical creatures. Seeing as she technically was a magical creature she got on with them quite well, the only kind of magic users that these animals were sometimes hostile to were witches and wizards, and Gabrielle could hardly blame them.

So yes, Gabrielle enjoyed school, in fact, part of the reason for her current restlessness was out of excitement to return to Beauxbatons and learn. At the same time though she did love summer and their home on the sea, and beyond that, her summer did not feel complete.

She had told herself all the way back in July that she would solve the mystery, solve who was the boy sending her on the roller coaster ride of emotions via the loop. Despite the promise, however, Gabrielle hadn't the foggiest idea who it was.

Then there was Harry Potter. She would see him again, the Triwizard Tournament was being held at Hogwarts, and she couldn't help but feel odd about the boy, add on top of that the fact that she most certainly owed him and it was an interesting dynamic.

Gabrielle angrily smacked her pillow and rose to her feet, pulling a silk gown on and making her way down to the sitting room for something relaxing to drink. She could have just called a house elf to bring it to her but there was something special about just doing it for yourself.

She was walking past the sitting room to get the drink when she heard a voice from the room speak quietly to her.

 _"I was wondering when you would admit defeat and just wake up."_

Startled, Gabrielle spun around in a flash, putting years of dancing into practice as she was now perfectly balanced, facing her mother, her tone had been teasing more than anything else, but Gabrielle had not missed the knowing undertone of the voice.

She bit the inside of her lip trying to figure out how her mom seemed to know she would be awake before giving in and asking.

 _"You knew I would not be able to sleep?"_

Apolline Delacour smiled fondly at her daughter before gesturing for her to take the plush armchair across from her, between them was a table with croissants and hot chocolate already waiting.

 _"I would like to think I know my daughter."_ She added with a small smile.

Gabrielle signed defeatedly and took the offered seat. She loved her mother but she knew there was something more to this.

 _"So you wasted half a night of sleep waiting for me?"_ She asked sceptically.

 _"If my suspicions are right I would not consider this a waste of my time."_ Her mother responded knowingly.

 _"Suspicions?"_

 _"Yes, you are nearing majority and have not been sleeping well, as a Veela who went through the same thing, it is a dead giveaway my love."_

Gabrielle tried not to blush at that but was unsure if she was successful.

 _"Alright"_ Gabrielle conceded, holding up a hand to stop her mother from cutting in. _"Yes, there is certainly some kind of bond forming."_

 _"And for some reason, I do not understand that bothers you?"_ Asked her mother with a raised eyebrow at her daughters' tone.

 _"Not bothers me no, well… not in the way you are assuming. It's… complicated."_

 _"Well then explain it to me?"_ Asked her mother as she leaned a bit forward in her seat.

Gabrielle sighed before giving in, after all, if anyone could help her it would be this woman, someone who had gone through the exact same thing and actually found and got together with her mate.

 _"It started in late June I think, but at the time I did not recognize it for what it was, I thought I was merely having weird mood swings."_

Her mother nodded, silently prompting Gabrielle to go on, so with another sigh she did.

 _"It became more and more frequent until mid-July, where it got… dark."_

 _"You think he is a dark wizard?"_ Apoline asked her daughter incredulously.

 _"No"_ Gabrielle rushed out the word. _"Not at all, that is not what I meant when I said darkly. He was… angry, frustrated, disappointed, heartbroken, depressed. Or maybe a combination of all of them. I don't know, I have never felt anything like that personally so it is rather hard to relate."_

Her mother looked mildly troubled at this but nodded.

 _"It seems fate has not made it easy on you, it has clearly matched you with a young man with more than his fair share of issues."_ Her mother observed with a neutral look.

Gabrielle just nodded.

 _"So?"_ Asked Apoline.

 _"That only made me want to find him more, I don't know, it is stupid to feel some way about a boy you have never met but I just wanted to help him, help him in any way I could."_

 _"It is not weird at all angel. Perhaps for a normal witch, yes, but for a Veela it is natural. We feel a connection to our mate, it is not love necessarily, though it obviously has a strong potential to morph into that later on. But we feel connected to them, responsible for them, and protective of them. Does that sum up your feelings towards your mystery boy?"_ She added the last part with a playful smirk which made Gabrielle groan.

She thought about what her mother had said for a minute before realizing she had hit the nail square on the head so she nodded.

 _"And it bothers you because you can not help him since you do not know who he is?"_

Another nod.

 _"And it is only made worse by the fact that you have your doubts you will ever find out who he is?"_

Yet again a nod.

Apoline laughed softly, causing colour to rise to her daughter's cheeks.

 _"It is not funny!"_ Exclaimed Gabrielle, a bit annoyed that her mother of all people seemed to find this situation so amusing.

Her mother held up a placating hand before speaking yet again.

 _"I laugh at your naivety Gabrielle, not your situation."_

 _"What?"_ Asked Gabrielle, visibly confused at this.

 _"Your mate is not chosen randomly Gabrielle, they are chosen for many reasons."_

 _"I thought they were bonded to us since they are the most compatible?"_

 _"You are right, but that is not the only factor, though granted it is the main one. There are factors on both sides."_

 _"Like what?"_

 _"Well, in some cases, the Veela or human need something, rather it be protection or reassurance or they just need to be loved" at this, she shot another teasing smile at Gabrielle. "Either way, the Veela tends to be matched up with a wizard she could help, or vice versa. And based on what you have told me I would assume that played some kind of role in all of this."_

 _"But how can I help him if I don't even know who he is,"_ Gabrielle said, only more defeated, now she truly felt like she was failing him.

Her mother smiled at her yet again before speaking.

 _"You would not be bonded with someone you could not help if they needed it, Gabrielle, fate is cruel, but not that cruel, it is likely that you will meet one day, and when you do you can seize the opportunity. If he is in as bad a state as you say you may meet very soon."_

 _"What makes you say that mama?"_

She smiled yet again, another knowing smile.

 _"It is simply the way these things tend to work out Gabrielle you will just have to trust me, and when the time comes, above all else trust your instincts, trust your blood and trust your heart. You will know when you meet him, even if it's not right away there will always be signs, and eventually there will come a time and a moment that will give it away, all you have to do is trust your heart."_

…..

Harry awoke that next morning to rather predictable chaos in the Burrow as five red-headed rockets shot through the home looking for god knows what as they hurriedly made a last-ditch effort at packing.

Harry and Hermione just sat at the table with Mr. Weasley in the dining room, watching the show going on with looks of amusement plastered onto their faces.

Mr. Weasley showed a similar look, though there was an odd sort of fondness in the man's eyes. That was until his wife came bustling into the kitchen looking mildly worried.

"Arthur, Amos Diggory is in the fire, he says he needs you and that it may be rather urgent."

Mr. Weasley sighed and got to his feet, making his way over to the fire.

As Mrs. Weasley left to aid her children in their foolish efforts Harry and Hermione fell silent as one, trying to overhear anything they could.

"Couldn't it have waited, Amos?" Asked Arthur exasperatedly. "It is the morning of September the first, and it would be nice to see my children off to Hogwarts."

"I'm sorry Arthur but my hands are rather tied. Mad-eye has caused quite the scene this morning, his story seems to be that he was attacked in the dead of night, but he had cursed muggle trash containers to attack his intruders. Codswallop in my opinion, but this seems like your territory, I believe cursing trash cans is illegal?"

Arthur sighed.

"Yes yes, it is."

"Well there you have it, add to that the cans ended up attacking a MUGGLE and not his apparent attacker and we have quite the scandal. Also Arthur between you and me" he lowered his voice conspiratorially before speaking in a quieter voice. "I don't really want to waste Aurors on the old man, he's clearly just off his rocker, so if you could investigate on their behalf? It would be appreciated, I can pay you mind, pay you what I would pay an auror for doing the same."

"Alright alright." Said Mr. Weasley defeatedly. "Just let me tell my wife, say goodbye to my family and I'll be on my way."

"Excellent, that's the stuff. Alright, I really should be getting back to work, see you, Arthur."

And with that Amos Diggory was gone.

"A bit odd." Observed Harry quietly as Mr. Weasley rushed off to say his goodbyes.

"How so?" Asked Hermione.

Harry shook his head.

"Do you know who Mad-Eye Moody is Hermione?"

"No, the name does sound rather familiar though."

Harry, on the other hand, knew exactly who the man was. He had read about him quite a lot actually, he had looked into the history of the dark arts, and the first war in particular, and seeing as he was regarded as the greatest Auror of his time, Moody's name came up quite a lot.

"Mad-Eye Moody is considered the greatest Auror of this generation, they say almost half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him." Hermione had a look of awe on her face but Harry pressed on. "Moody was known for being rather… well, ruthless, he wasn't one for stunners and fought with the same force the death eaters used on him."

"He used dark magic?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"If the situation warranted it yes. Apparently, the Aurors were given permission to use dark magic near the end of the last war. Not many actually did it though. But Moody, he was famous for using it, if he could kill them and get away with it, he would, he felt it was better justice than Azkaban.

Harry let his statement sink in for a minute before he made to continue but Hermione cut him off, obviously quick on the uptake as usual.

"So you think it's weird that he would let his attacker off with just some trash bins?"

"Exactly." Said, Harry.

"But apparently there was no attack and it was just muggles."

Harry shrugged.

"If there was an attack or not is irrelevant, he thought there was, and that's what matters, Mad-Eye would shoot first ask questions later. And apparently the bins got the muggle, I have a hard time believing Mad-Eye would leave the bloke in one piece."

"So you're saying you think he was attacked?"

Harry shook his head.

"I'm not saying anything aside from the fact that I think Amos may be missing a few details, it's not important or anything, I just found it odd.

…..

The rest of the morning passed in the same kind of chaos until, finally, mercifully Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George and Ginny as well as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, and Percy were all bustling into platform nine and three quarters.

For what seemed like the millionth time, Ron and the twins tried to ascertain what it was that was going on at Hogwarts this year, but for the millionth time they were unsuccessful.

For better or for worse the train finally pulled out of platform nine and three quarters and all of a sudden Harry and his friends were on their way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for yet another year in the ancient castle.

"Bloody annoying isn't it?" Asked Ron as he flopped into the seat across from Harry.

"What's that?" Asked Harry.

"No one will tell us what the hell is going on at Hogwarts will they?" He asked rhetorically.

"I'm not that worried about it." Asked Harry.

"What?" Asked Ron, clearly gobsmacked.

"I could use a relaxing year personally."

Ron flushed, clearly taken aback, Harry had not spoken once about the death of Sirius and the reference to it was more than enough to shut up his oldest friend.

"Besides" Harry continued, "I'm sure Dumbledore will tell us tonight anyways."

Ron leaned back in his seat stretching luxuriously with a large yawn.

"I suppose you're probably right." Admitted Ron. "I'm just impatient I guess."

"Didn't have to tell me." Commented Harry with a smirk.

"Oi!" Exclaimed Ron.

…..

The next number of hours passed quite quickly as they made their way to the sacred castle. They played chess, Gobstones, and exploding snap, and Harry and Ron chatted with Neville, Dean, and Seamus while Hermione read. Finally, Harry stood up drawing the attention of the compartment.

"Where are you off to?" Asked Ron.

Harry just shrugged.

"Just stretching my legs." He answered before leaving the compartment and nearly running into the two red-headed boys he was looking for.

"Ah, Harry my good old chap!" Exclaimed the first with a low bow.

"So marvellous to see you!" Exclaimed the second.

"How could we be of service today young lord?" They finished in perfect unison.

Harry smirked, their antics never did get old.

"Operation 6 and one of my own creation." He said simply, the boys' eyes lit up.

"We're in!" Was the simple reply.

…..

After half an hour of planning, Harry waited outside one of the many compartments, completely and totally invisible underneath his father's cloak.

At long last, the door opened and Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle exited, leaving Pansy Parkinson in the compartment alone with a boy Harry recognized as Theodore Nott.

With three loud stomps of his foot, the plan was set into motion.

All of a sudden the Hogwarts Express was alight with a dazzling display of fireworks as a huge BANG filled the train.

Confused and curious the two Slytherins came tearing out the door, passing right by Harry as he easily slipped into their compartment to put the plan into motion.

…..

It was not long later that Draco Malfoy, accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle re-entered the compartment.

Draco was fuming, how dare Potter hide from him? How dare he rob him, the heir to the most ancient and noble house of Black was what he wanted? Scarhead would pay for this one, nobody ruined Draco Malfoy's fun. After all, he had been taught from a very young age to get what he wanted and to teach a lesson to those who prevented that from happening, and right now Potter fit quite well into that category.

He was snapped out of his musings though by a horrid sound from across from him as a jet of projectile vomit smacked him square in the face as Goyle had bit into a sweet and had suddenly began to vomit everywhere.

Malfoy was about to hex the troll for his disgusting behaviour when he was hit again, and he wasn't the only one.

Pansy had also got a similar projectile in the face when Crabbe had done the exact same.

Draco tried to move but he couldn't, he couldn't even see through all the vomit. All he could do was scream.

…..

Harry and the twins were doubled over laughing in a compartment with Lee Jordan as they heard two high pitched screams from the compartment Harry had left.

"Puking pastilles were a brilliant idea." Weazed Fred through his laughter.

"The git will never be able to fix himself, I bet those trolls vomited all over him."

"I have to ask though"

"What's ickle Harrikins up to?"

"With this other plan of his?"

Harry smirked.

"I suppose you'll just have to wait and see.

…..

It was several hours later as the student made to get off the train that yet another resounding BANG could be heard, this time from inside a compartment and another high pitched scream.

The twins fell into fits of laughter they only intensified as Draco Malfoy exited into the hallway.

Clearly, he had managed to clean the vomit off of himself but he still did not look well, and his hair still looked rather damp. That wasn't the funniest bit though.

His face was covered in soot and his eyebrows were gone, completely singed off.

His robes were also singed, the acromantula silk still smoking.

"Whoever rigged that firework" he began dangerously, "you will pay." Based largely on his condition Harry did not get the impression that the crowd took him very seriously, especially not when he was bombarded with laughter and snide remarks which only served to infuriate the blonde further. Malfoy caught Harry's eye and a malicious look came over him before the two boys were forced apart as the rush of bodies forced them towards the exit.

"What did you do?" The twins asked in awed unison.

Harry smirked arrogantly.

"Rigged a firework to the luggage compartment to go off whenever it was opened."

At the twins slack jaws, his smirk only grew as he continued.

"I figured I would teach him not to lean in head first, I mean, what if the trunk fell, it's dangerous."

Harry would swear that the laughter of himself and the twins could be heard inside the castle up the street.

Authors Endnote.

I was originally going to end this chapter with the feast and Dumbledore's Speech but this seemed like a better place to end it, as that really fits in better with the next chapter, so sorry for the shorter chapter but it was eventful if nothing else.

Thank you to my betas James Marx and SonofPoseidon2018 for their work on this story, and as always please favourite, follow, and above all else review.

Thank you guys for the huge support on the last chapter and if you could keep it up that would be incredible! ACI100 signing off until next time.


	8. The Triwizrd Tournament

**Disclaimer: I do not own any bit of Harry Potter if I did this would have probably been the main series pairing.**

 **Authors Note 1**

 **Sorry for the delay on all my stories everyone, I was experiencing technical difficulties, should be all good now though.**

 **Authors Note 2**

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and SonofPoseidon2018 for their work on this story.**

"Speech"

'Internal Dialogue'

 _French_

 **Chapter 8 The Triwizard Tournament.**

Harry and his friends had made their way back up to the castle, still roaring with laughter at the fate of their bitter rival. Harry's mood had been good, better then it had been since the Quidditch World Cup as a result of the prank.

That mood was only slightly dampened at the tumultuous downpour that the Hogwarts students were treated to upon exiting the train.

"Bloody hell!" Cursed Ron as raindrops pelted them, soaking them virtually instantaneously.

The trio, along with Fred and George began to make their way towards the carriages, heads bowed low against the gusts of wind and sheets of rain seemingly trying to overwhelm them.

"Hagrid," Harry called loudly over the storm to his half-giant friend, who waved back merrily, a great smile on the man's face despite the conditions.

"Alright, Harry?" He boomed, his voice carrying easily over the din of the storm. "See ya at the feast if we don't drown."

First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.

"Oof, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather." Said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd.

A hundred carriages stood, waiting for the students who stormed them impatiently, desperate to escape from mother nature's onslaught. Harry, however, froze, rooted to the spot, his jaw agape, and his eyes wide with surprise.

"Harry?" Asked Hermione as she tried to pull him forwards, seemingly as impatient as the rest. "Harry come on!"

But he wouldn't.

What, for the past two years had been carriages pulled simply by magic herself with no obvious signs of propulsion had seemingly revealed the source of their movement.

Instead of horseless carriages, in front of each carriage was a creature Harry had seen once before in a book, though at the moment he could not remember the name of the aforementioned creature.

It looked like a black, skeletal horse, except for the simple facts that for one it was too large to be a horse, and for two, its eyes glowed a dark red. To cap off the effect the creature seemed to have eyes exclusively for Harry and no one else as it surveyed him with curiosity and seemingly interest.

"Since when do those things pull the carriage?" He asked his bushy-haired friend, finally coming out of his trance and beginning to make his way towards one of the carriages, though he was still moving far slower then his friend was hoping for.

"What things?" Asked Hermione, seeming to be puzzled by Harry's question.

"That horse looking thing." He said, gesturing to the nearest one, only ten feet away from them.

"Harry?" Hermione half said half asked sounding concerned as she looked in the direction that Harry had indicated. "What are you talking about there's nothing there."

Harry's jaw fell open again as he stared at the creature. He could not possibly see any way that Hermione could miss the creatures, they didn't exactly blend in, but it was also unlike his friend to lie or joke around about something like this, that was much more the area of people like Fred and George.

"You don't see it?" Asked Harry, half incredulous, half worried for his own sanity.

"See what Harry? There's nothing there." Hermione spoke these words adamantly.

Harry pondered the situation for a moment, he was sure she was not lying or joking with him, it would be far too out of her character, but at the same time, he was sure that there was no possible explanation for her not being able to see them. Unless… unless he was the only one who could see them?

Harry looked around at all of the faces around them, not only did they seem completely unconcerned at their seemingly new escorts, but they seemed completely oblivious to the creature's existence in the first place.

For a minute Harry's mind subconsciously drifted to the death omens he had heard Ron mention the mad divination teacher had spoken of like the grim. He instantly regretted that train of thought though because that only brought back painful thoughts of Sirius, and they only caused an odd, stabbing pain in his chest.

And then the lightbulb went off, and Harry remembered exactly where he had seen these creatures before.

Harry had not taken divination in his third year, he had instead opted for Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures. Ron however, had taken the class, as well as care.

Ron had gone on and on about "the mad bat" as he had called her, referencing Professor Trelawney, the divination professor. According to Ron, she seemed to very much enjoy predicting Neville's death, even saying she had seen a grim in his teacup.

Harry had looked into the grim after Ron had told him a story about it. In the same text that had contained information on the grim, it both referred, and went into detail on other death omens, one of them being the thestral.

Harry only remembered it because, at the time, he had thought it extremely out of place.

The thestral, (at least in Harry's opinion) was not a death omen at all, even if the magical world seemed to view them as bad luck due to their main distinguishing feature.

Unlike any other creatures, magical or non-magical, thestrals could only be seen by those who had witnessed death.

The thoughts of the grim and Sirius had brought it to the forefront and now he found his throat was rather dry as he forced himself to take one deep, calming breath.

"Harry?" Asked Hermione, sounding concerned as Harry vaguely realized he had completely spaced out.

"Thestrals." He breathed, barely more than a whisper.

"What?" Asked Hermione, seeming to be confused.

"The creatures I'm seeing, the things that are pulling the carriages are thestrals." Before Hermione could cut in as Harry knew she was about to do he pressed on. "The reason you can't see them, and because I've never noticed them until now, is because in order to see a thestral one must have witnessed, and be able to remember death."

For a moment they were silent until Hermione sniffed.

"Oh, Harry…"

"Let's go, Hermione," Harry said, not letting her finish. "I'm bloody freezing."

Hermione wanted to push the subject, Harry could tell as much, however, he figured her desire for food and warmth outweighed that desire at the moment, because instead of pursuing the topic she just sighed resignedly, slid into the carriage and leaned back as the carriages began splashing their way up to the castle.

…..

Through the gates flanked by statues of winged bores and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale.

Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a stop in front of the huge oak doors, situated at the top of an ancient, elegant stairway.

People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the twins jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torchlit entrance hall with its magnificent marble staircase.

"Blimey," said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere. "If that keeps up the lake is going to overflow. I'm so… ugh!"

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped out of the ceiling on top of Ron's head and exploded.

Drenched and spluttering Ron staggered sideways into Harry just as a second water bomb dropped, narrowly missing Hermione it burst at Harry's feet sending a cold wave of water up his trainers and into his socks.

People all around them shrieked and started pushing each other in their efforts to get out of the line of fire.

Harry looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie his wide malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again.

Another water balloon shot towards the golden trio once more but Harry was too fed up to deal with this right now.

"Dipulso." He cried, drawing his wand in an instant, banishing the water balloon straight back at the poltergeist, the balloon exploded against him, drenching him and his suit.

Harry was actually quite surprised that had actually worked, having expected the balloon to simply fly straight through Peeves, and then he had remembered that one of the distinct properties of poltergeists were the fact that they could interact with physical objects. They could not be harmed, but seeing as being drenched was not technically harming him, it seemed the laws of magic deemed it fair game.

Peeves spluttered and cursed violently, catching the attention of a group of now scandalized looking second years as he shot off in the opposite direction, blowing Harry a loud, obnoxious raspberry as he went.

The crowd around Harry burst into a mix of laughter and applause, as many people actually went as far as to walk up to Harry and shake his hand, or pat him on the back, or something of the like.

"Move along then!" Came a stern, yet… 'dare he say it?" Slightly amused voice that Harry recognized as belonging to Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration professor, head of Gryffindor house, and deputy headmistress of Hogwarts.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione slipped and slid across the floor of the entrance hall before making their way through the double doors on the right, Ron muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face.

The great hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start of term feast, golden plates and goblets gleamed by the lights of hundreds and hundreds of candles floating over the tables in mid-air.

The four long house tables were packed with chattering students. At the top of the hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here.

Harry, Ron and Hermione walked past the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the hall next to nearly headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, as they not so patiently awaited the sorting of the new students so they could get down to their meal.

The sorting of the new students into houses took place at the start of every school year, but by an unlucky combination of circumstances, Harry hadn't been present at one since his own. Despite his hunger, he was quite looking forward to it.

His anticipation for the sorting was rudely interrupted when the over-enthusiastic third-year fanboy, Colin Creevey had called for Harry from down the table and proceeded to go on about his younger brother Denis, who, according to Colin would be starting his first year at Hogwarts this year.

Curiously, when Harry had glanced up at the staff table there seemed to be more empty seats then he was accustomed to.

Hagrid was of course still fighting his way across the lake with the first years. Harry assumed that Professor McGonagall was awaiting the arrival of said first years, but there was another empty chair too, and he couldn't think who else was missing.

"Where's the new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher?" Asked Hermione, who was also looking up at the teachers.

Harry, silently musing about the lack of success recent teachers in that position had had, scanned the staff table once more. There was definitely no one new there.

'Had Dumbledore finally failed to find a suitable candidate who wanted the position?' Harry asked himself, not really surprised if that was the case, the apparent curse on that position was common knowledge both in, and clearly outside of the castle.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone." Harry theorized aloud as Hermione began to look anxious at the mere thought.

Ron groaned, effectively breaking up their speculation.

"I could eat a Hippogriff" he moaned.

The words were no sooner out of his mouth then the doors to the great hall opened and silence fell over the hall.

Professor McGonagall re-entered the hall, leading a long line of nervous looking first years. If Harry, Ron, and Hermione were wet, it was nothing compared to any of these first years, they appeared to have swam across the lake rather than sailing. All of them were shivering from a combination of cold and nerves as they made their way into a line in front of the staff table facing the rest of the school.

After one of the boys, presumably Colin's younger brother made a silent proclamation about falling in the lake, and Professor McGonagall had placed the ancient sorting hat on its three-legged stool the hat burst into song.

"A thousand years or more ago. When I was newly sown.

There lived four wizards so rebound their names are still well known.

Bold Gryffindors from wild Moure.

Fair Ravenclaw from Glenn.

Sweet Hufflepuff from Valley Broad.

Shroud Slytherin from Fen.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream, they hatched a daring plan.

To educate young Sorcerer's thus, Hogwarts school began.

Now each of these four founders formed their own house.

For each did value different virtues in the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were prized far beyond the rest.

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest would always be the best.

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were most worthy of admission.

And power hungry Slytherin loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide their favourites from the throng.

Yet how to pick the worthy ones when they were dead and gone?

Twas Gryffindor who found the way, he whipped me off his head.

The founders put some brains in me so I could choose instead.

Now slip me snug about your ears I've never yet been wrong.

I'll have a look inside your mind and tell where you'll belong."

The great hall rang with applause as the sorting hat finished.

"That's not the song it sang when it sorted us." Said Hermione, clapping along with everyone else.

"Sings a different one every year," said Ron. "It's gotta be a pretty boring life, hasn't it? Being a hat I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."

With that the sorting began, each first year making their way up to the stool one by one, the line dwindling as a student after student joined their new housemates at each respective table.

Partway through the story Hagrid had re-entered the hall and taken his place at the head table, sending Harry, Ron, and Hermione a wink and a smile as Dennis Creevey joined his older brother in the house of the bold.

"Oh hurry up." Ron moaned as Professor McGonagall reached the L's.

After a further number of minutes, the last Hufflepuff was sorted, Professor McGonagall whisked the stool and hat away and the sorting officially came to a close.

"About time." Said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

Professor Dumbledore had got to his feet dressed in shocking turquoise robes dotted with constellations, he was smiling around at the students, his arms open wide in welcome

"I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the hall. "Tuck in!"

"Here here!" Said Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.

Dinner was interesting if not entertaining affair. Nearly Headless Nick had told the trio about the antics of Peeves and had mentioned the house elves who worked in the Hogwarts kitchens. That had turned out to be the end of Hermione's dinner as she refused to eat anything made by what she viewed as slaves.

Harry had read a great deal on house elves after the whole Dobby fiasco in second year, so he made a mental note to accurately explain the concept to her at a later date, but at the moment his heaping plate of steak and mashed potatoes seemed a far more important bit of business.

The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark windows. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remainder of the first course vanished and was replaced instantly with puddings.

Ron tried to get their bushy-haired friend to eat, even waving some of the most scrumptious desserts known to mankind in her face, but despite the obvious use of temptation, she did not even budge in her silent protest.

When the puddings to had been demolished and the last crumbs had faded off the plates leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the hall ceased almost at once so that only the howling wind and pouring rain could be heard.

"So," said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered I must, once more ask for your attention as I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include screaming yo yous, fanged frisbees and ever bashing boomerangs. The full list comprises some 437 items I believe and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office if anyone would like to check it.

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched, he continued.

"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to any below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry gasped, he looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore apparently to appalled to speak. Dumbledore continued.

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October and continuing throughout the school year taking up much of the teachers time and energy, but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts…"

But at that moment there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors to the great hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the great hall swiveled towards the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled dark grey hair then began to walk up towards the teacher's table. A dull clunk echoed through the hall on his every other step.

He reached the end of the top table, limped right and heavily towards Dumbledore.

Another flash of lightning shot across the ceiling, Hermione gasped. The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief and it was a face unlike any Harry had ever seen. It looked like it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea what human faces were supposed to look like and were none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred, the mouth looked like a diagonal gash and a large chunk of the nose was missing, but it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark and beady, the other was large, round as a coin and vivid electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly without blinking and was rolling up, down, and from side to side quite independently of the normal eye and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head so that all they could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore and held out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face and Dumbledore shook it muttering words Harry couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger who responded unsmiling with a shake of his head and who replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark grey hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages towards him, raised it to what was left of his nose and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against The Dark Arts Teacher." Said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be treated with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore, Hagrid, and Harry, who had put two and two together and was sporting a wild ear to ear grin at the prospect of being taught Defense Against The Dark Arts by one of the greatest Aurors of all time.

Moody seemed totally indifferent with his less than warm welcome. Ignoring the flask of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his travelling cloak, took out a hip flask and took a long draft from it. As he lifted his flask to drink his cloak was pulled a few inches up and Harry saw underneath the table that one of his legs was wooden and hollow like that of a pirate in a muggle cartoon.

Dumbledore cleared his throat again.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody. "We are to have the honour of hosting a very special event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're joking!" Said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively,

"I am not joking Mr. Wesley, though now you mention it I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar…"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Uh.. but maybe this is not the time, no." Said Dumbledore. "Where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament. Well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation and allowing their attention to wander freely."

"The Triwizard Tournament was established some seven hundred years ago as a competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament every five years, and it was generally agreed that to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities. Until that is the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll," Hermione whispered sounding alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the hall. Many were whispering excitedly with each other and Harry himself was far more interested in hearing more about the tournament then worrying about deaths that took place hundreds of years ago.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reboot the tournament." Dumbledore continued. "None of which have been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided that the time is right for another attempt. They have worked hard over the summer to assure that this time, no champion will find himself, or herself in mortal danger. The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their students on October the first, and the selection of the three champions will take place on Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard cup, the glory of their school and a thousand galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it." Fred Weasley hissed to Harry from down the table, his face alight with enthusiasm at such glory and riches, though Harry knew he wanted the money to put his aspirations into motion.

Dumbledore waited for the chatter to die down once more before continuing once again.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard cup to Hogwarts," he said "the heads of each of the three participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic have decided to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age, that is to say, seventeen years or older will be allowed to put their names forward for consideration. This," Dumbledore raised his voice slightly for several people had made loud noises protest at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious. "Is a measure we feel is necessary seeing as the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion."

His blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred and George's mutinous faces. Though Harry could not help but notice when he said the bit about anyone under sixth and seventh year being unable to cope with the difficulty of the tasks, he could have sworn he had seen Dumbledore smile slightly in his direction.

"I, therefore, beg you not to waste your time trying to enter yourself if you are not seventeen. The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will, as previously mentioned be arriving on October the first and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us and will give your wholehearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he, or she is selected."

A great deal of murmuring broke out once more and Dumbledore raised one hand for silence, gaining it almost instantaneously.

"However, if you are not of age, or simply do not think the tournament is quite your cup of tea that is quite alright, for the competition of the Triwizard Tournament will extend far beyond the tournament itself. I am pleased to announce that for the first time in tournament history, there will be three other competitions ongoing in conjunction with the tournament and that Hogwarts will field a team for each variation of competition."

At this, the hall broke out into murmurs again, this time Dumbledore let them die off naturally before speaking once more.

"The first of them will be an academic competition, there will be teams of seven students, one from each year, so everyone is welcome to try out for the team. The team that will be run by Professor McGonagall as well as myself"

Another wave of murmuring and Hermione looked excited. Silently, Harry thought he may consider that.

"The next level of competition will be duelling, and it will be taken on by Professor Flitwick as well as Professor Snape. This tournament will consist of teams of three, with two spares. I must warn you however that due to the risks involved in duelling this team will only be open to fourth year and up, and that there are no age divisions or classifications in this competition, therefore, the jostle for a position will be a free for all."

Harry was sold, he knew he could fight, and something about the idea thrilled him, he could even get over the whole idea of Snape being one of the ones in charge of the team.

"The final branch of competition will be an inter-school Quidditch tournament that will be monitored by Madam Hooch. This is all open to all years and we will take two of each position, a starter, and a reserve as well as one alternate player to fill in where needed."

"YES!" Harry, Fred, George, and several other Quidditch players called out from the crowd, causing a good deal of laughter to be mixed in with the applause.

Dumbledore chuckled before continuing.

"Finally, there is no restriction as to how many competitions you can enter, but be warned that if your grades start to suffer we will be reevaluating your positions on any and all teams. And with that, I bid you a Goodnight."

…..

 **Authors Endnote.**

 **First and foremost, I quoted quite a lot directly from** _ **Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire**_ **in this chapter and also used direct quotes in conjunction with my own additions. All quotes used from** _ **Goblet of Fire**_ **belong exclusively to J.K Rowling.**

 **I know this is essentially a canon rehash but I wanted to write it, especially with the slight twist at the end.**

 **Also, I know that Beauxbatons and Durmstrang do not arrive until the 30th of October in canon, not the first. I did not forget, I just chose to change it as it fits better with the story and honestly makes more sense.**

 **Next chapter Harry's first month at Hogwarts and the foreign visitors arrive, bringing a beautiful surprise for our young hero.**

 **If you guys could review it would mean the world to me, as well as follows and favourites. And with that out of the way, I will see you all in the next chapter.**


	9. School, Skrewts and Mad Eye Moody

**Disclaimer: As always I own no part of Harry Potter whatsoever and have only my imagination to work with.**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this chapter.**

" **Speech"**

' **Internal Dialogue'**

 _ **French**_

 **Chapter 9: School, Skrewts, and Mad Eye Moody.**

The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy, clouds of pewter grey swirled overhead as Harry, Ron and Hermione examined their timetables over breakfast.

A few seats down Fred, George and their friend Lee Jordan were discussing magical methods of aging themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament.

"Today's not bad, outside all morning." Said Harry who was running a finger down the Monday column of his timetable. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures with the… damn it! We're still with the Slytherins."

"Double Divination this afternoon." Ron groaned looking down at his timetable.

"You should have given it up like I did, shouldn't you?" Said Hermione briskly buttering herself some toast. "Then you could be doing something sensible, like Arithmancy."

Harry nodded in agreement, he was very grateful he had not chosen Divination, instead electing to take Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures.

"Or just never taken it to begin with like me." He said, voicing his thoughts. "I told you it was a waste of time, Ron. If you're not a natural seer, there's nothing the old bat can really teach you."

Ron looked a bit disgruntled at that, clearly he had thought it was an easy route to a high grade, but apparently it wasn't working out the way he had hoped.

"You're eating again I've noticed." Said Ron, watching Hermione add liberal amounts of jam to her toast, as he referred to her refusal to do so the night earlier in protest of elf enslavement.

"I've decided that there are better ways of making a stand for elf rights." Said Hermione haughtily.

"Yeah, and you were hungry." Said Ron grinning.

…..

Hermione and Ron argued lightly all the way across the sodden vegetable patch until they arrived in greenhouse three, but here he was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the ugliest plants Harry had ever seen.

Indeed they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly, and each seemed to have a number of large, slimy swellings on it which each seemed to be full of liquid.

"Bubotubers" Professor Sprout told them briskly, "they need squeezing. You will collect the pus…"

"The what?" exclaimed Seamus Finnigan sounding revolted.

"Pus, Finnigan, Pus." Said Professor Sprout. "And it's extremely valuable so don't waste it. You will collect the pus as I was saying in these vials. Wear your dragon hide gloves, it can do funny things to the skin when it comes into contact with undiluted bubotuber pus."

Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting but oddly satisfying. As each swelling popped a large amount of green yellowish liquid burst forth which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints.

"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy." Said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to drastic measures to rid themselves of pimples."

"Like poor Eloise Midgen." Said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."

"Silly girl." Said Professor Sprout shaking her head. "but Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end."

A booming bell echoed across the lawns from the castle, signaling the end of the lesson and the class separated, the Hufflepuffs climbing the stone steps for transfiguration and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid's small wooden cabin which stood on the edge of the forbidden forest.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

"Mornin." Hagrid said, grinning at Harry, Ron and Hermione. "Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won't want ter miss this. Blast Ended Skrewts!"

"Come again?" Asked Ron.

Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

"Ugh!" Squealed Lavender Brown jumping backwards.

Ugh, just about summed up the blast ended skrewts in Harry's opinion. They looked like deformed, shell less lobsters, terribly pale and slimy looking with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over each other, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a Skrewt and with a small bang it would be propelled forwards several inches.

"On'y just hatched." Said Hagrid proudly. "So, ye'll be able ter raise them yer selves. Thought we'd make a bit of a project out of it!"

"And why would we want to raise them?" Asked a cold voice.

The Slytherins had arrived, the speaker was Draco Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words.

"I mean, what do they do?" Asked Malfoy. "What is the point of them?"

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard, there was a few seconds pause then he said roughly. "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer just feedin 'em today. Now, ye'll want to try em on a few different thins, I've never had em before, so I'm nu sure what they'll go fer. I got ant eggs and frog livers, and a bit of grass snake. Jus' try em out with a bit o' each."

"First pus and now this." Muttered Seamus.

Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made Harry, Ron and Hermione pick up squinching handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast Ended Skrewts.

Harry couldn't suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless because the Skrewts didn't seem to have mouths.

"Ouch!" Yelled Dean Thomas after about 10 minutes. "It got me!"

Hagrid hurried over to him looking anxious.

"It's end exploded." Said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off." Said Hagrid.

"Ugh!" Said Lavender Brown again. "Ugh, Hagrid what's that pointy thing on it?"

"Ah, some of em ave got stings!" Hagrid said enthusiastically, Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box.

And on the day went. Malfoy had loudly complained once more, Hermione had rebudled him, but later admitted to the other two that she actually agreed with Malfoy's sentiment, something Harry and Ron were hard pressed to argue.

Harry was rather thrilled that the usually strict Professor Vector, his Arithmancy teacher had not given them a single page of homework. Ron, however, was far less fortunate, as apparently he would be spending a great deal of his weekend working on his homework from Trelawney.

"Tough luck, mate." Harry had said through a rather luxurious stretch, a smug yet amused smile playing on his lips.

The class Harry was really looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry had heard others rave about Moody and his classes, the twins chief amongst them, and it was quite unlike them to praise any figure of authority.

When Thursday finally came Harry was rather excited for the defense lesson, however his excitement quickly faded when he walked into the great hall that morning and looked at the headline of the Daily Prophet.

 **Harry Potter Defeats Former Death Eater and Duelling Champion**

By Rita Skeeter

 **There have many ongoing questions regarding the fiasco that was the aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup. In all the chaos however, a major story was lost.**

 **Thomas Nott Jr., Former National Youth Duelling Champion, and former Regional Duelling Champion as an adult was tried in front of a court of law on Wednesday afternoon. The trial took place in front of a full Wizengamot and was conducted by the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot himself.**

 **What makes this so interesting however, is not the charges laid against Mr. Nott, nor the fact that they were proven accurate. No, it was the nature of the charges themselves that were so interesting.**

 **Thomas Nott was charged with, (and later admitted to, under veritaserum) the attempted rape of two Veela, one of them underage, the attempted assault of a minor, the attempted murder of a minor, and the attempted use of multiple Unforgivable curses against said minor.**

 **But who is this mysterious minor? And what did he do to upset Mr. Nott oh so much? Well, my eager readers, Mr. Nott answered it all himself under veritaserum so we need not ask ourselves the question at all.**

" **I was trying to capture a couple of Veela, my intentions were to have some fun and sell them off for a profit later down the road. But then they stepped in." Mr. Nott told us all in a flat voice as the potion worked its magic.**

" **Who are the 'they' you are referring to Mr. Nott?" Asked Amelia Bones, head of the Magical Law Enforcement Office.**

" **Harry Potter and a few other teenagers, I don't know who the other ones were."**

" **What happened next?"**

" **One of the girls tried to get me to stop and I offered her a deal. If Potter could best me in a duel I would let them go."**

" **Why would you want to duel Harry Potter?"**

" **Revenge."**

" **For what?"**

 **And that is when Mr. Nott made a shocking proclamation.**

" **For destroying the Dark Lord, my lord, and stopping his progress to establishing a better world."**

 **Mr. Nott then went on to describe a thrilling duel where he was apparently bested by the fourteen year old Harry Potter.**

 **But does this just raise more questions than it answered?**

 **What was Harry Potter doing that night to come across such a scene? Who were his young accomplices? And how did he beat Thomas Nott? Was it powerful dark magic? Was that how he beat You-Know-Who all those years ago? Do we have the next Dark Lord on our hands?**

 **Well readers, for your sake and mine, I certainly hope that is nothing more than speculation.**

Harry was fuming. "How could they publish that without my permission? I'm not even of age?"

"No clue mate." Said Ron, looking a bit incredulous.

"My question is how do you go and beat an old death eater and get accused of being a dark lord?" Asked Hermione, sounding rather bewildered.

Ron just shrugged. "That's just Rita Skeeter isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Asked Harry, his attention caught. He had heard Percy and Mr. Weasley complaining about her quite loudly over the holidays and now she had given Harry more than enough reason to do the same.

Ron just shrugged and seemed to search for the right words before finally deciding on a very articulate observation. "She's just a massive git." He proclaimed through a face full of eggs.

Harry nearly choked on and spat out all his pumpkin juice all at once at Ron's description, it was more the fact it had taken him that long to come up with it.

As Harry spluttered Ron shot him an apologetic look before continuing. "Dad always says she just makes stuff up. Takes a base of truth and builds whatever she wants on top of it, you know? He said she's even been accused of faking quotes, but no one's ever been able to prove it."

Harry just nodded.

By the time Harry had finally arrived at his first defense class of the year any feelings he had about the article were long gone, replaced by raw excitement at the prospect of having a teacher the caliber of Moody.

The door to the classroom was unlocked so they all walked in.

As they made to sit a gruff voice screamed from out of nowhere. "Stupefy!"

Jet after jet of red light flew in every direction, stunning nearly everyone in seconds.

Hermione fell instantly, caught by surprise, Ron managed to avoid a few spells before slamming hard into a desk and falling to the floor cursing rather loudly.

Harry had evaded stunner after stunner until it was just him facing thin air. Everyone else either stunned, or in Ron's case doing a good job of pretending.

"Stupefy!" The voice said again, and this time Harry saw a shimmer in the air.

Harry silently raised a Protego and let his shield absorb the impact of the stunner before making a circular motion with his wand and jabbing it in the general direction of the disturbance.

"Revelio."

There was yet another shimmer in the air and Moody was all of a sudden standing there.

Harry expected the show to end there but it didn't. He tried a full body bind next, followed by a disarmer and a stunner, all chained together in one sequence.

Harry sidestepped the first two and shielded the third before deciding it was his turn to play.

"Wingardium Leviosa." With a flick and a swish of his wand three desks raised into the air before hurdling themselves straight towards Moody who's eyes widened in surprise.

He managed to banish the desks away before being caught off guard by Harry's silent expelliarmus.

Harry caught his wand and looked at Moody, he was giving him a calculating look before laughing hardily, walking forward and clasping Harry on the shoulder. Harry flinched a bit at the sudden contact, years of abuse drilling the motion into him.

"Silent casting, Potter? At such a young age, and CONSTANT VIGILANCE personified! Brilliant! Just brilliant, take 20 points for Gryffindor."

Harry smiled and handed Moody back his wand. He knew he had only surprised the man and he had been sticking to low level spells. Although he knew that in a real duel he would have no chance he was proud of himself nonetheless.

Ron stared up at Harry with awe etched in his features as Moody went around reviving people until he saw Ron.

"Weasley, right?" He asked him, Ron all of a sudden looked very nervous.

"Yes sir." He said politely.

Moody nodded rather approvingly. "Your dad got me out of a bit of trouble the other day, do me a favour and write to him saying old Moody sends his gratitude will you?"

Ron nodded at once. "Yes sir."

"Good, now, were you awake the entire time?"

Ron blushed a bit and looked rather embarrassed but spoke. "Yeah, I kinda just dived on the floor and hid behind a desk."

'Correction, Ronald, you dove to the side and damn near put your knee THROUGH the desk.' Thought Harry as he suppressed a snigger.

Moody nodded approvingly once more. "Take 3 points to Gryffindor. Next time, Weasley, attack. You're strategy is good, but you could have surprised me and took me down much faster if you would have attacked from there while Potter had my attention."

Ron blushed again before muttering under his breath. "He seemed to have it under control." And something like "didn't wanna get in the way."

"Too true, Potter did well, but those are famous last words Weasley. Don't let them be yours." He then looked around at the assembled class before roaring "CONSTANT VIGILANCE! It is key in any fight, it is key in any situation, and I expect a damn shot better of a display of it then you all showed today. If I had been a death eater and Potter hadn't been there to save all of your necks, you would all be dead, captured, or being tortured right now."

He paused to let that all sink in before making his way to the front of the room and taking out a scroll of parchment before taking the roll.

"Now, Professor Lupin was kind enough to leave me his notes from last year. He said that at the beginning of last year the class was rather far behind, but he seems to have put it down to incompetence in the teaching position more so than your own abilities. Do you all agree with his assessment?"

There was a mutual murmur of agreement and Moody scowled before moving on. "He said that last year you covered Boggarts, Red Kaps, Kappas, Hinkypunks, Grindylows and Werewolves. All correct?"

Again the class muttered their agreement and Moody nodded. "I will have to meet this Remus Lupin, he seems as if he is more than capable. But you are all very, very behind in terms of dark curses."

He inspected the class for a minute before asking no one in particular. "Who here can define for me what is a dark curse?"

Harry's hand shot into the air immediately but Hermione's beat his by centimeters.

"Go on then." Moody grunted at Hermione.

"A curse is the highest level of offensive magic" Hermione reeled off with ease, "a curse is anything the ministry deems dangerous enough to be ranked above jinxes and hexes, and any dark, offensive spells fall into this category without question."

Hermione smiled a rather smug smile seeming rather proud of herself.

"Wrong." Growled Moody seemingly unimpressed.

Harry almost laughed as there was literally an intake of breath from many of the students around them and Ron looked like somebody who had just woken up from a rather bad knockout loss in a heavyweight boxing bout, dazed, shocked and confused. Hermione on the other hand looked like someone had kicked her puppy, but defiance shown in her eyes.

"But that's what it says in…"

"I don't give a damn what book told you that nonsense, it's wrong."

"But the ministry…"

"Can go suck Merlin's dirty toes for all I care." Thundered Moody. "The ministry knows nothing about combat magic, they're a bunch of academics shut up in a room trying to come up with a smart sounding definition that will satisfy the average witch or wizard. You need to learn to think for yourself, Granger. Memorizing the textbooks will only get you so far in life."

Harry thought that was a bit harsh but did not necessarily disagree with Moody's statement. It did pain him to see the look of hurt on Hermione's face though.

"Anyone else wanna try? And if you're gonna spout off a ministry approved definition you can stay sitting with your mouth shut."

For a long moment no one moved, and then Harry tentatively raised his hand.

"Go on then, Potter." Said Moody, seeming somehow more interested now.

"Well," started Harry "a curse is anything cast at you with the intent to cause serious harm."

"Go on." Prompted Moody. "What is it that makes your answer different from Granger's?"

Harry thought for a moment before it clicked. "Well, if I'm right then it's not so black and white, curses aren't what the ministry deems them, they're the magic that is specifically designed to cause harm." A light bulb went off in Harry's mind. "That's it isn't it? A curse is any spell designed with the soul purpose of causing harm to another person, no ifs ands or buts. That's why spells like diffindo are only considered hexes. You could cut someone's neck with a diffindo and they'd be dead, but the spell wasn't created to cause harm."

Moody seemed to evaluate Harry for a long moment before speaking. "There's no official definition I can give you that I agree with, but I like Potter's, so we're going to go with that. So, Potter, why then are curses so dangerous? And I don't mean just because they are harmful."

Harry thought for a long moment before answering slowly. "Well sir, curses can be almost anything, anything designed to harm, so they can be very flexible and come from a lot of different fields of magic, which means your defense would need to be sound in all areas as well as flexible and adaptable."

Moody actually shared a rare smile. "Very good Potter. Very, very good. Take another 10 points. Now, can anyone else tell me why the bit about all curses being dark magic and vice versa are balderdash?"

No one answered.

"Potter?" Moody asked, despite the fact Harry had not raised his hand.

Harry sat there stumped for a moment before the answer came to him. "Because not all dark magic is designed to harm you?"

Moody nodded, the same approving smile on his face.

"But sir" piped up Hermione. "Isn't that exactly the point of dark magic?"

Moody observed her closely. "I'm afraid that's a heavily debated topic, Granger, the definition of dark magic will vary depending on who you ask. There were classifications for magic once, true, accurate, unbiased classifications based on magic itself. But those were lost centuries ago. It is rumoured that some intelligent creatures like goblins still have them, but they would never share their knowledge with wizards even if the rumours are true, which I doubt. The ministry came in and gave their own definition, but it was riddled with bias and was designed solely to scare people away from the arts, not to be accurate in their classification."

"The point that I am trying to get across is that magic can be dangerous in many different ways, as can assumptions. If you assume you know what is dangerous and what isn't, if you assume your defense is good enough simply because it works well against a particular branch of magic then you're already halfway to being a rotting corpse on the battlefield. CONSTANT VIGILANCE is always the solution. This year we will be going in depth on combat magic and how to defend against what most people consider dark. There isn't much time left so I just want you all to copy down your biggest takeaways from this lesson and hand them in to me at the end of the period, they will not be marked but I am curious to gauge your takeaways. There will be no homework for today."

When the class didn't move Moody growled. "Well, get to it then."

And they did.

"I see what Fred and George mean." Said Harry as they left the defense classroom for dinner.

"Oh yeah?" Said Ron, clearly curious.

"He knows, he knows what it's really like. Not because he's read about it, not because he's made assumptions. He knows the truth, he's seen it all in action and understands what dark magic really is. He'll make an excellent professor."

Ron nodded in agreement but Hermione said nothing.

"Cheer up 'Mione, at least you learned something today. It's nice always being right but it's useless if you're not actually learning isn't it?"

Hermione nodded thoughtfully at that, seeming to cheer up a bit as she smiled gratefully at him.

They reached the entrance hall which was packed with people queuing for dinner. They had just joined the end of the line when a loud voice rang out behind them.

"Weasley! Hey Weasley!""

Harry, Ron and Hermione turned. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something.

"What?" Said Ron shortly

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley. Clearly he isn't big enough business to make the main prophet." he sneered at Harry as he said this. "old scar head seems to have that honour locked up quite nicely. But he sure made the evening prophet. Weasley." Said Malfoy, brandishing a copy of the evening prophet and speaking very loudly so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could here. "Listen to this."

"Further mistakes at the Ministry of Magic. It seems as if the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end. Writes Rita Skeeter, special correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment on Monday by the antics of ARNOLD WEASLEY of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

Malfoy looked up. "Imagine them not even getting his name right Weasley, it's almost like he's a complete non-entity isn't it?" He cooed.

Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now, Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish and read on. "Arnold Weasley who was charged with the possession of a flying car two years ago was involved in a tussle with several muggle law keepers (police men) over a number of highly aggressive dustbins early Monday morning. Mr. Weasley seems to have rushed to the aid of Mad Eye Moody, the aged ex auror who retired from the ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house it was discovered that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the police men but refused to answer any questions as to why he chose to involve the ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene. AND there's a picture, Weasley." Said Malfoy, flipping over the paper and holding it up. "A picture of your parents outside their house, if you can call it a house. Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight couldn't she?"

Ron was shaking with fury, everyone was staring at him.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy." Said Harry. "Come on Ron."

"Oh yeah! You were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" Sneered Malfoy. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky? Or is it just the picture?"

"You know your mother, Malfoy?" Said Harry, both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron's robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy. "That expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose. Has she always looked like that or was it just because you were with her?"

Malfoy's pale face went slightly pink. "Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter!"

"Keep your fat mouth shut then." Said Harry, turning away.

BANG!

Several people screamed. Harry felt something white hot graze the side of his face. He plunged his hand into his robes for his wand but before he had even touched it, he heard a second loud BANG and a roar which echoed through the entrance hall.

"Oh no you don't, laddy!"

Harry spun around, Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing at a pure white ferret that was shivering on the cold white floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing.

There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall, nobody but Moody was moving a muscle.

Moody turned to look at Harry, at least his normal eye was looking at Harry the other one was pointing into the back of his head. "Did he get you?" Moody growled, his voice was low and gravelly.

"No." Said Harry. "Missed."

"Leave it!" Moody shouted.

"Leave what?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Not you, him." Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe who had just frozen about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed as though Moody's eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.

Moody started to limp towards Crabbe, Goyle and the ferret which gave a terrified shriek and took off towards the dungeons. "I don't think so!" Roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again. It flew ten feet into the air and then fell to the floor with a smack and bounced up once more.

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's backs are turned." Growled Moody, bouncing the ferret higher and higher as it squealed in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do."

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly. "Never. Do. That. Again." Said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upwards again.

"Professor Moody!" Said a shocked voice.

Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall." Said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

"What… what are you doing?" Said Professor McGonagall her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.

"Teaching." said Moody.

"Teaching… Moody, is that a student?" said Professor McGonagall, the books falling out of her arms.

"Yup." Said Moody.

"No!" Cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand. A moment later with a loud snapping noise Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek, blonde hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.

"Moody, we never use transfiguration as a punishment." Said Professor McGonagall weekly. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might have mentioned it, yeah." Said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly. "But I thought a good sharp shock…"

"We give DETENTIONS Moody, or speak to the offenders head of house."

"I'll do that then." Said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.

Malfoy who's grey eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation looked melevalantly up at Moody and muttered something where the words "my father" were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" Said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well, I know your father of old, boy. You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son. You tell him that from me. Now, your head of house will be Snape, will it?"

"Yes." Said Malfoy resentfully.

"Another old friend." Growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape. Come on you." And he seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off towards the dungeons.

Professor McGonagall stared worriedly after them for a few moments before waving her wand at her fallen books and causing them to shoot up into her arms once more.

"Don't talk to me." Ron said quietly to Harry and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened.

"Why not?" Said Hermione in surprise.

"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever." Said Ron, his eyes closed, and an uplifted expression on his face. "Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret."

Harry and Hermione both laughed and Hermione began dolling beef casserole onto each of their plates.

"He could have really hurt Malfoy though." Said Hermione. "It was good really that Professor McGonagall stopped it."

"Hermione." Said Ron furiously. "You're ruining the best moment of my life."

From there, Hermione had eaten at top speed before rushing off to the library, leaving Harry and Ron to wander off to the common room alone.

It came as a great surprise however, when they reached the common room to find a large, excited group of students all gathered around the notice board.

As Harry was at best average in height for his age and Ron was far above that, the red head stood on tiptoes and got a look at the board from over the heads of the students.

"Quidditch tryouts will take place every morning starting next week for the school team." He informed Harry. "There will be open practices until the first of October when the other schools arrive and the team will be announced that night at the feast."

"The first duelling tryout is also this Saturday, and apparently the first academic tryout is this Sunday."

He looked at Harry incredulously. "Blimey, they're really taking this tournament thing seriously aren't they?"

Harry nodded.

"You should do duelling." Said Ron. "Obviously you'll make the Quidditch team, youngest seeker in a century and all that, but you'd be great at duelling and I think you'd really love it, it seems like just your thing."

Harry smirked at that. "You mean avoiding death by the skin of my teeth, yeah, I'm pretty good at that, sign me up."

Ron laughed loudly and then got a serious expression. "I'm serious."

"I know, but you do realize I'd probably be the youngest in the tournament if I made it?"

"You do realize you beat a former duelling champion this summer?"

"That was a fight, not a duel. There is a big difference, and he probably underestimate me."

"Yeah" said Ron. "If you can fight, duelling should be easy, just make it fast paced and intense."

Harry nodded, he had come to the same conclusion long ago. "I think I will go for it." He said quietly.

"Bloody brilliant!" Said Ron, clapping his friend on the back. "So we'll win Quidditch and duelling, now I just need to convince you to find a way into the tournament so you can win that too."

Harry just snorted and shook his head disbelievingly. "I'd never win, and I would never want it."

"I know you'd never do it." Said Ron with an amused smile. "But it would be a hell of a triple crown."

Harry shook his head. "Not interested, not even a little.

"Suit yourself." Said a familiar voice from behind them.

"More for us!" Said a nearly identical voice.

Harry turned to see the twins grinning at him. "You guys are gonna go out for Quidditch obviously?" Asked Harry.

"Obviously!" They affirmed as one.

Harry nodded.

"We were told to give this to you." Said Fred, handing Harry a tightly bound scroll of parchment.

"Any idea what it is?" Asked Harry, his curiosity peaked.

"Not the foggiest idea." Said George cheerfully. "Cheers mate, see you later." And just like that they were gone.

Harry just raised an eyebrow at Ron who smirked and shook his head. "That's just them, isn't it.?"

Harry just nodded before his curiosity won out and he unrolled the scroll. Upon it was a very short note scrolled in familiar, loopy writing.

 _I would appreciate it very much if you could meet me in my office tomorrow evening at 8:00. We have much to discuss and I have a most intriguing proposition for you._

 _I hope your first week has gone well, and I hope it only continues to improve._

 _All the best,_

 _Professor Dumbledore._

…..

 **Authors Endnote.**

 **Wow, what a way to end it off! What could Dumbledore possibly want with Harry? Keep reading to find out.**

 **I know that in canon the first lesson in Moody's class was the unforgivables, I did not forget, I am just changing the timeline so it comes later on. Also, I know the Malfoy scene was on the first day, but same thing goes for that.**

 **Next chapter, Dumbledore's proposition, Quidditch, Duelling, and the arrival of the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang! I hope to see you all there.**


	10. Propositions and Delegations

**Disclaimer: As always I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with the franchise. This is all JKR's beautiful world, I just enjoy to cause a little bit of chaos in her utopia.**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and SonofPoseidon2018 for their work on this story.**

"Speech"

'Internal Dialogue'

 _French_

 **Parseltongue**

 **Chapter 10: Propositions, Competitions and Delegations.**

It was a rather anxious Harry Potter that slowly made his way to the entrance of Dumbledore's office before finding himself in front of the gargoyle.

"Cockroach Cluster."

Immediately the gargoyle stepped aside, granting Harry a clear view of the elaborate spiral staircase that he knew led up to the headmaster's office. Tentatively Harry made his way up said spiral staircase before he reached a large, oak door with an ornate knocker.

Tentatively, Harry stepped forward and knocked three times.

"Enter." Said the brisk voice of Professor Dumbledore from inside the office. Still feeling a slight bit of trepidation, Harry pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The office was decorated just as impressively and eccentrically as Harry remembered from nearly two years previous. He only hoped that this time he was here under much better circumstances.

As if Dumbledore could sense what Harry was thinking he smiled kindly at him and gestured to the seat directly across from him on the near side of his desk.

"I assure you Harry that on this occasion you are not being falsely accused of attempted murder against another student."

Harry smiled at the way Dumbledore referenced the whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco despite himself as he stepped forward and lowered himself into the seat across from the headmaster.

Dumbledore seemed to have a gift for putting people at ease, Harry suspected that as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, as well as headmaster of a magical school full of teenagers it was probably a very useful gift to have.

Harry was distracted by a rush of movement and a rustling of something behind him. Before he could investigate he felt claws lightly dig into his shoulder as a breathtaking phoenix landed on his shoulder and trilled happily as it gently rubbed its great head against Harry's neck.

Harry smiled an easy smile as he gently stroked the plumage of the brilliant bird. "Hello there, Fawkes." He said, his mood seemingly lifted automatically by the presence of the phoenix.

"He does seem to like you." Dumbledore said with great interest and amusement. Fawkes let out a happy note, seemingly agreeing with his old friend.

Dumbledore examined Harry closely before speaking. "I was unaware of your duel with Mr. Nott over the summer."

His voice was not accusatory in the least, just questioning and perhaps a bit disappointed.

"I'm sorry, sir, it was right before we were set to return to Hogwarts and I didn't want to bother you or anything."

Dumbledore merely nodded. "An admirable goal, however, please understand that you are never a bother to me, Harry. If there is ever something you wish to discuss or bring to my attention then you may do so. If you did not want to discuss it, that is understandable, but do not think you are merely burdening an old man with your problems."

Harry nodded.

"I am going to assume that Misters Crabbe and Goyle who go on trial tomorrow afternoon were his associates in the attack?"

Harry nodded again.

Dumbledore just sighed. "All the more reason to go ahead with it then." He said, sounding older than Harry had ever heard him sound before. "Before we do though, and before you bombard we with questions, as will be only natural for you to do, I would like to ask you one of my own. If I may?"

Harry nodded once more, seeing no reason not to.

"Has your scar bothered you at all since the vision of Lord Voldemort?"

Harry thought for a moment but shook his head. "Not that I can remember, no." He answered truthfully.

Dumbledore nodded, looking thoughtful.

"So you still believe that it was a vision?" Asked Harry, wanting to here the words come from Dumbledore's mouth personally.

"Yes I do." Sighed Dumbledore. "You will remember of course our conversation at the end of your second year upon you emerging victorious from the Chamber of Secrets?" Again Harry nodded. "I told you then that you could speak Parseltongue because Lord Voldemort can speak it, I told you then that it was my belief that the curse that failed to kill you that Halloween night linked you and Voldemort more closely than any two wizards have ever been previously linked by magic."

Harry nodded, he did indeed remember that conversation.

"I believe it is this connection that is allowing you glimpses into Lord Voldemort's mind and actions. I believe that this connection is at its strongest when Lord Voldemort is feeling particularly strong emotions. I also regret to inform you that these visions will likely only increase in frequency if Voldemort continues to gain power."

Harry nodded, not really surprised by that fact, it made sense as annoying as it was.

"Now, I imagine you are wondering why I asked for your time tonight?"

Harry nodded for the umpteenth time in the meeting. "Yes sir, I was actually pretty curious."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Curiosity, a great yet terrible thing, but only natural nonetheless. Well, Harry, as I hinted at in the note I had delivered to you I would like to offer you a proposition. Though it may sound like a brilliant blessing at the beginning, I wish for you to hear me out completely before you come to your decision. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, his curiosity most certainly peeked now.

"Good." Said Dumbledore, stroking his beard distractedly. "It should go without saying that nothing I say should be revealed to anyone under any circumstances unless you receive my expressed permission to do so, I will not make you swear an oath as they are quite easy to fool and I trust you unconditionally."

Harry nodded once more, he found that a lump had formed in his throat at the show of faith from Dumbledore, which made speech a bit difficult.

"Now, it is my belief that in the next couple of years at most, we will be dealing with a Voldemort who has regained a physical form and his full power once more." Harry made to speak but Dumbledore held up a hand silencing him. "Surely Harry, you of all people did not believe that he could be held off forever? Lord Voldemort will return, it is an inevitability. On one hand, it is a good thing for us."

Harry's jaw fell open at the proclamation but Dumbledore merely chuckled once more before elaborating.

"If you will forgive my modesty, or lack thereof, I am a rather powerful wizard, and that power as well as my reputation did indeed serve as quite the deterrent for Tom in the first war, by Tom I am of course referring to Lord Voldemort." Harry nodded, having assumed it was Tom Riddle whom he was speaking of. "Between the two of us, I am hardly young, and the faster that Lord Voldemort returns, the more of an aid I will be. So yes, in that regard it would help us greatly."

Harry couldn't help but agree with Dumbledore in that regard. It was common knowledge that Dumbledore was the only one Voldemort ever feared.

"The issue with this" Dumbledore continued, snapping Harry out of his thoughts "is that it will most certainly be yourself who Lord Voldemort targets above any other, and the longer you have to prepare yourself for that inevitable confrontation the better.

"So, what does this have to do with anything you may be asking yourself? Well, I have decided to see if you would allow me to try my hand at speeding up the process, by which I mean your preparations for the unavoidable danger you will be in."

Harry's jaw fell open once more and he stared at Dumbledore in sheer shock and amazement.

"Now, I would teach you a number of different things, some of them may seem useless to you at the beginning, if you accept the offer I would ask that you conduct yourself with great patience, due to the aforementioned and because much of the magic I would be showing you would be far beyond the capabilities of your average fourteen year old wizard. I have complete faith in you and your abilities. However, it would be a very large amount of work to take on, and I do not wish to take you away from your school work nor Quidditch, nor your personal life. There would be a great deal of self study, especially due to the fact that my schedule is rather full and equally unpredictable, so it is unlikely that we would be able to meet anymore than one or two times a month while you are at Hogwarts."

Harry's jaw had remained open for the entirety of Dumbledore's elaboration and finally he closed it, before opening it again, and snapping it shut once more.

Dumbledore seemed rather amused as he looked on at his potential pupil. Finally, Harry gained the ability to speak and there was awe laced into every syllable. "You would teach me?"

"That is my implication." Said Dumbledore, his lips twitching upwards in amusement. "After all, what is the use for all of the extensive magical knowledge that I possess if it will simply follow me to the grave?"

Harry remained frozen in place do to disbelief for a number of moments before Dumbledore spoke up.

"I can see I have very much caught you off guard." He said, a twinkle in his eye. "You do not need to make an immediate decision…"

"Are you joking!" Piped up Harry. "Of course I accept, I just can't believe that you're offering to do this for me."

Dumbledore smiled, but a moment later his face took on a more serious expression. "You do understand the amount of effort I am asking you to put in on your own time do you not? I expect at least two hours of practice every night, preferably on the practical side of things, with perhaps a bit of time spent on any given reading material."

"That's fine." Said Harry, thrilled at the opportunity now that the initial shock had passed. "But sir, where am I supposed to practice practical magic?"

"Well, I believe many students use abandoned classrooms, though I should certainly not be recommending such things. I would advise against that option because if a prefect catches you out I will not be able to revoke the punishment as it would both give away our secret and appear as a great show of bias."

Dumbledore thought for a moment before smiling. "I believe that I may have hired someone over the holidays who may be of great assistance in the matter. He has after all been most eager to see you."

"Who?" Asked Harry, slightly bewildered at who could fit such a description.

Dumbledore smiled once more before snapping his fingers.

Instantly a small creature appeared before him. For a moment there was stillness as the creature took in its surroundings, and then its large, green eyes found Harry.

"MASTER HARRY POTTER SIR!" Squealed Dobby as he launched himself at a very surprised Harry. Fawkes quickly abandoned his shoulder in time to avoid the impact and instead landed back on his perch, preferring to simply observe the situation. "Dobby has been waiting, sir, Dobby wanted nothing more then to see the great Harry Potter sir. Dobby wants to thank the great Harry Potter sir and…"

"Dobby!" Shouted Harry over the elf's ramblings. "It's great to see you too, but could you please let go of me. I think you might break a rib."

Dobby immediately let go of Harry and stepped back. "Dobby is sorry Harry Potter sir, it is only because Dobby is so excited to see the great Harry Potter once more sir."

He then seemed to realize who else was in the room and turned to Dumbledore, looking apologetic.

"I am sorry Master Dumbledore sir, I only wished to greet the great Harry Potter sir."

"That is quite alright Dobby." Reassured Dumbledore with a small chortle. "It is actually a matter regarding Harry that provoked me to call you here this evening."

"Dobby will get to help the great Harry Potter?" He asked excitedly, seeming to hardly be able to believe his luck.

"If you are able, and if you are willing then yes." Said Dumbledore kindly.

Dobby spun to face Harry at once, his face alight with pride and anticipation.

"How can Dobby be helping the great Harry Potter sir? Dobby will do anything to help, anything just ask of Dobby?"

Harry shot Dumbledore a look that caused him to smile at the young man's expense.

"Erm… ok, Dobby, do you know of anywhere in the castle that I could practice powerful magic and not be able to be found by a prefect or teacher? The room, or passage, or whatever would have to have plenty of room."

Dobby thought very hard for several moments, and for a second Harry thought he had drawn a blank as an expression of sadness crossed the elf's face, but then an idea seemed to come to him and his face split into an ear to ear smile as he bounced on the balls of his little feet.

"Dobby knows a place Harry Potter. Dobby knows the perfect place to help Mr. Harry Potter sir, become an even greater wizard. To become the greatest wizard sir." Dobby proclaimed proudly.

"You do? Where is it?"

"It is called the Come and Go room Harry Potter sir. Though yous humans be calling it the Room of Requirement."

"So the legends of such a room are true?" Asked Dumbledore, clearly very interested.

"Oh yes, Master Dumbledore, sir. The room is spectacular, it can become anything. Anything that Master Dumbledore or Mr. Harry Potter sir want it to be."

Harry's jaw dropped at the description for he knew Dobby would not lie or exaggerate.

"Would it be possible for you to show us the room now Dobby?" Asked Dumbledore curiously.

"Oh yes sir, but it is easy to find, great wizards like you would have no trouble, no trouble at all, it is on the seventh floor sir, across from Barnabas the Barmy."

"Ah." said Dumbledore with a nod. Harry had nodded as well, for he to knew of the place that Dobby was talking about, though he was very confused.

"But Dobby?" Asked Harry slowly. "There is only a blank wall near that tapestry."

Dobby just beamed at him once more.

"Oh yes, Harry Potter sir, that is what it looks like, but it is being very different then a blank wall. You'd be being walking in front of the wall, sir. Back and forwards three times and thinking of you want the room to become, sir."

"I assume that the room follows the basic magical laws associated with transfiguration?" Asked Dumbledore. "That it to say, it could not produce food, nor other humans?"

"Yes sir, that be seeming correct, sir."

"Very well, thank you very much, Dobby, you may go back to the kitchens if you wish."

Dobby beamed at then once more before disappearing with a loud crack.

"He really is an odd elf." Noted Harry.

"I quite like him." Admitted Dumbledore, the twinkle in his eyes as his lips twitched upwards.

"You have your invisibility cloak, Harry?"

"Yes sir." Said Harry, who rarely went anywhere without it.

"Very good, I would very much like for you to put it on and take my arm, we are going to go to the room in question."

By Dumbledore's request it seemed as if they were going to apparate, but Harry knew that was impossible. "But sir, isn't it impossible to apparate inside of Hogwarts, and why the cloak?"

Dumbledore smiled. "It would not do for our little secret to get out, now would it? As for the apparition inside the castle, it is indeed impossible. I think you will find however, that there are equally fast means of transportation."

Harry just shrugged and through on his cloak before taking Dumbledore's offered arm.

Only then did Harry realize what Dumbledore had meant as he had held up one hand and his phoenix had come flying over to them before Dumbledore seized Fawke's tale and they were gone in a flash of fire.

…..

Harry left the Room of Requirement nearly an hour later awe struck at the discovery. It was simply marvellous in every sense of the word. He and Dumbledore had experimented a bit, and even had some fun with the room's capabilities.

It could turn into anything from a training room, to a duelling arena, to a luxurious living quarters, and even a full sized swimming pool.

Harry was so amazed at the discovery he hardly noticed where his feet were carrying him until he arrived in fron to the fat lady. He'd probably have walked straight into the portrait if she hadn't snapped him out of his musings by a rather loud clearing of her throat.

"Oh right, sorry ma'am, balderdash." He said with an apologetic smile. She just harrumphed indignantly and swung open to admit him.

It must have been later than Harry had originally guessed for the room was mostly empty aside from a few first years seemingly pouring over homework, a handful of fifth and seventh years respectively, the twins, and then Ron and Hermione, waiting for him near the fire.

"Bloody hell!" Exclaimed Ron as Harry approached them and took the saved seat between them. "Where have you been all night?"

"Meeting with Dumbledore." Answered Harry, they had decided he could tell his friends about the meeting but that at least for now, Harry would not inform them of their true purposes.

"Blimey" said Ron, seemingly impressed. "What was that about anyway?"

"Just asking me about the duel with Nott, and some stuff about Crabbe and Goyle. He's overseeing the trials as chief warlock."

"Ah," Said Ron, nodding his understanding. "You have any homework to do tonight?"

"That essay for Snape and a quick write up for runes, how about you?"

"Snape's, McGonagall's, and Trelawney's." he groaned. "You wouldn't mind checking over my charms would you? Hermione said she wouldn't do it but I don't want them answered just a bit of help maybe?"

"Just let me finish Snape's first, if you help me with some of the research, I'll look over it and correct your charms."

"Cheers!" Said Ron appreciatively as he scrambled to get up the stairs to the dorm to go collect his potions text.

"You've got to stop helping him." Said Hermione from behind the runes text. "He'll never learn this way."

Harry shrugged. "He's learning the subject better by being corrected then allowed to assume his errors are truths. Besides, it's getting him to do his potions and helping me out at the same time, so it's a win win is it not?"

She sighed, but didn't seem to be able to dispute his point. "I suppose you're right of course." She said. "You do know how to get him on track after all."

"I'm well practiced in that area." He said with a smirk that made her giggle slightly.

"Are you going out for duelling tomorrow?" She asked him, sounding a bit nervous.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm actually pretty excited to tell you the truth, a bit nervous, but excited."

She seemed to wave off any concerns he had. "You'll be fine, Harry, probably be the best in the school, though apparently Diggory is quite good as well."

Harry nodded. "Cedric seems a very capable wizard in general, I imagine he will be tough to beat."

"They'll probably do it in rounds though, since there are multiple tryouts. They'll probably make you all duel each other once over the few tryouts and keep track of the results and overall performances and pick the team based on that."

Harry nodded, he hadn't put that much thought in it but it made sense. "Sounds about right." He said, pulling out his own potions text as Ron made his way back down the stairs.

"You going for the academic one then?"

She nodded, looking a bit sheepish. "You should do it with me?" She suggested, almost sounding desperate.

He smiled at her but shook his head. "We both know I'm far better in the practical side of it. Sure, my theory is really good in charms, transfiguration, and defense; but aside from that I'd be useless. I get good marks because of the practicals in all the others. Besides, I'm already doing Quidditch and duelling, assuming I make both."

Hermione just sighed. "You don't give yourself enough credit. Your theoretical work is really good in potions as well, Snape is just horrible to you and marks you down."

Harry raised an eyebrow, surprised Hermione would acknowledge that, she had defended Snape vehemently in the past.

"Oh come off it." She said, smiling at him as though she could read his thoughts. "I don't think he's evil, but that doesn't mean I don't see what he does to you."

Harry just smiled at her appreciatively in return. "Either way though" he said "I wouldn't have time."

She nodded. "I know, but it'd be nice to have someone I knew."

The sadness in her voice had him taken slightly aback, but their conversation was interrupted when Ron flopped down into the chair to Harry's right.

"Let's get this over with then." He said with authority and so they did.

…..

"Duelling is far more than throwing spell after spell at your opponents." The tiny charms master began his lecture to the large group of students gathered in the great hall, which greatly resembled itself on the night Lockhart had hosted the one and only meeting of the Hogwarts duelling club nearly two years ago. Harry smiled at the fond memory as an image of Lockhart being blasted off the stage came to the forefront of his mind. Quickly and guiltily he turned back into the conversation. One where Flitwick was lecturing the students on the etiquette and complexity of organized duelling.

"We, that is to say, myself and Professor Snape will pair you off one by one and you will duel. There will be three tryouts before Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrive, the team will be decided in those tryouts and announced the night of their arrival."

They began pairing them off but to Harry's displeasure Snape reached him first. "Ah yes, of course. Our very own golden boy has arrived and chosen to grace us unworthy with his presence." Drawled Snape, his ever present sneer well and truly in place. "I think a good duel to wheedle out the unworthy, let's see. Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, I believe your previous duel was never concluded, step forward please."

Harry smirked, Snape clearly had far too much faith in his student. Or maybe Malfoy had simply asked for this after Harry and Moody had embarrassed him. Either way, Malfoy was not looking so confident now.

Snape whispered something to him, once again giving Harry flashbacks to the duelling club from two years previous.

"Seeing as I am not either of your head of house, I will referee this duel to ensure no bias." Squeaked Professor Flitwick as he stepped forward, Snape looked livid at the proclamation. "Now wands at the ready on go; three, two, one…"

But just like two years previous Malfoy had started early, but this time Harry had expected it.

"Levicorpus." The spell caught Harry off guard, he did not know that one, must have been the one Snape had given him. Not wanting to find out what it did, Harry simply dodged before raising his own wand.

"Everte Statum."

The bolt of blue energy blasted at Malfoy who dove to the side but Harry had expected it. With a swish and a flick of his wand Draco Malfoy was lifted up into the air and hurled head first into the magical force field around the stage.

There was a loud popping sound as Malfoy was thrown back to the ground hard.

Most of the audience cheered and whooped as the blonde hit the ground with a thud.

Snape looked horrified and livid in equal measure. Clearly he had not expected silent casting.

"Do you wish to continue Mr. Malfoy?" Asked Professor Flitwick as he closely inspected the blonde.

Malfoy just nodded before getting back to his feet.

For the next minute Harry allowed Draco to hurl curse after curse at him to no avail, finally he decided to end it when Malfoy had gone too far.

Malfoy had sent a stunner which Harry easily blocked but he followed it up with an incantation that Harry did not know. The jet of black light that flew towards his shield was a bit too foreboding for Harry's liking so he dropped the shield and rolled to the side before coming up on the offensive.

"Expelliarmus." The disarmer flew at Draco who sidestepped, but again he stepped into the path of Harry's next spell, a stunner.

"Protego."

"Bombarda!"

Draco's shield was more than enough to deal with Harry's stunning spell, but his blasting curse blew clean through the invisible Barrier, sending Draco flying backwards into the forcefield once more.

If Draco would have stayed down, Harry would have been forbidden to attack under the laws of duelling. However, as soon as Draco's hand touched the ground and he assumed the position of one about to stand it was fair game.

Harry pelted Draco with several stinging hexis until he fell flat on his rear end, his wand still pointed at Harry.

"Diffindo."

Harry sidestepped the frantic spell easily.

"Serpensortia."

The cobra that erupted from the tip of Harry's wand looked confused for only a moment before Harry hissed.

" **Seize him, scare him, but do not harm him."**

The snake lunged at Draco who let out a high pitched scream as he was quickly pinned down and wrapped in the coils of the snake.

"Cease fighting!" Commanded Flitwick as he vanished the snake. "Draco Malfoy has been deemed no longer able to defend himself and therefore the winner is Harry Potter."

"But he used dark magic." Protested Pansy Parkinson.

"Parseltongue is not considered dark magic, Ms. Parkinson." Argued Flitwick. "It is actually not banned in duels, and was a very resourceful tactic if you ask me."

That shut the Slytherins up.

…..

The rest of the night was fairly routine for Harry.

He defeated a sixth year girl, and a fifth year boy who had been decent but had posed no real challenge. He was onto the next round. The matchups were already set for that next round. Harry was set to face Terry Boot from his own year, Marietta Edgecombe, a fifth year Ravenclaw prefect who seemed to be the shadow of Cho Chang, and Abraham Montague, a Slytherin sixth year who was actually supposed to be quite good, and was known for his vicious selection of spells, having injured all three of his opponents that night.

The next night saw the first practice of the academic team, but as the practice was held in private and not made open for an audience, Harry had to wait until Hermione returned to the common room to ask her how it had went.

In her usual way Hermione proclaimed that she had made several stupid mistakes when Harry knew it was all rubbish. He knew the mistakes that Hermione were talking about were far too rudimentary for someone of her intellect to make and that, as usual she was only working herself up over nothing.

…..

The weekend had come and gone rather quickly, and just like that the first Quidditch practice was upon them. The hopefuls for the Hogwarts team had been rather disgruntled when they saw that their practice had been scheduled for 6:00 in the morning.

"Who the bloody hell thought this was a good idea?" Asked Fred as he and George walked on either side of Harry down to the pitch.

"Hooch apparently." Harry responded through a huge yawn, impressed he had been able to speak at all.

"But why?" Asked the twins in unison.

Harry shrugged. "It will show her who is really committed, I guess, and probably narrow down the field quite a bit off the get go."

The twins nodded resentfully. "Still bloody stupid though." Cursed Fred.

Harry shrugged.

"You don't even seem that put out." Observed George through a yawn.

"I'm usually up at this time anyways, always have been. It's actually been much earlier in the last few months." He regretted saying that as soon as it was out of his mouth because he could predict the next question.

"Why the bloody hell would you get up earlier?" They asked in indignant unison.

In reality, the real reason Harry had been waking up earlier is because he was almost always woken up with the same nightmare. His mother's final moments, a blinding flash of green light, and then looking into the vacant, lifeless eyes of his godfather.

Sometimes, he would simply relive the dementor kissing Sirius, and witness as his Patronus had been a second too late, and the only family he had ever known ceased to exist in front of his very eyes.

The dreams of his parents sucked, but he could usually get back to sleep afterwards, but not now. Every time he saw that look in his godfather's eyes… he just couldn't do it, it was the one thing he could not deal with. Sirius's death had been closer to breaking him than anything else ever had before, and he could not dwell on it, could not acknowledge it, he had to ignore it, take the responsibility for his failure, but not think of the man himself. That was the only way he could deal with it.

"I usually do my homework in the morning when it's quiet." He said. "It started with me studying for exams last year and I just never really stopped." He did not like lying to them but no one could know this, not even Ron or Hermione. This was his problem and his alone. Despite his slight guilt it was a good lie, it fit with the timeline and everything and the twins believed it without question.

…..

It took quite a long time for all of the hopefuls to be gathered in front of Madam Hooch.

That first day had been standard.

"We will keep going until we have only double the amount of players we need." She had said. "From there on out, those of you selected will attend practices six days a week. On the night the other schools arrive, the team will be announced and we will go from there."

They had been in the air for a number of hours that day. Many of the "hopefuls" had dropped in minutes, but an equal number of them seemed evenly matched, and the practice dragged on quite a bit until finally they had satisfied their goal in terms of numbers and Madam Hooch called a stop to the practice.

…..

Harry's second week back had not been overly eventful. There had been Quidditch practices, but as Madam Hooch had warned they were quite standard, the only difference is that they incorporated muggle exercise into the practices.

Harry did well on anything speed based, probably being the fastest on the team, his cardio was decent, though nothing remarkable, but he did struggle greatly in the strength based workouts. He was rather small, though years of malnutrition tended to do that. But his aptitude for speed and agility "more then makes up for that particular deficiency" according to Madam Hooch.

Aside from that, there hadn't really been anything of consequence.

In charms they had started work on the banishing charm. Harry had learned this charm over a year ago do to its potential applications in combat. Combat magic was a branch of magic he had deeply looked into, both out of necessity and due to his interest into Defense Against the Dark Arts.

As a result he had been rather bored while watching pretty much the entirety of the class struggle with the spell. It was not easy to get right away. By the end of the lesson Hermione had managed it perfectly a couple of times, but was nowhere near consistent. Aside from her, Harry was unsure if anyone else had completed it once.

He had simply performed the spell perfectly a handful of times before Professor Flitwick had just smiled at him and allowed him to read.

It was not until Friday night that something interesting finally happened.

Harry was sitting, working in the common room when he could not help but overhear two all too familiar voices seemingly arguing with one another.

He looked over to see the twins pouring over a piece of parchment whispering urgently to each other. At first, Harry assumed it was merely another order form for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but he didn't think so, they were far too secretive.

"No," he heard George say contemplatively "that sounds like blackmail, we've got to be careful."

He then looked up and saw Harry looking at him, Harry blushed, looking a bit embarrassed before smiling apologetically at him before he made to turn away but George waved him over.

"Nonsense." Said George as Harry made his way over, pulling up a chair in between the two boys. "You can keep a secret of course?" Asked George, sounding deadly serious. It was this that alerted Harry to the nature of the situation.

He nodded, looking at him intently.

"You remember the bets we had with Bagman at the Quidditch World Cup?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Asked Harry, slightly confused.

"He scammed the lot of us."

Harry was confused. "He gave me the money, and I gave it to you didn't I?" He asked, a bit worried he had forgotten.

Fred simply waved that off. "Yes yes, we know that, and yeah, you gave it to us first thing but that's not what we meant."

"What then?"

"When we woke up the next morning it was all gone." Stated Fred bluntly.

Harry frowned trying to remember it vanishing. He had no recollection of noticing, but he was sure he would have done something with the gold and could not remember seeing it after that day, and it had been a considerable amount, not a meager sum that would go unnoticed.

Slowly Harry nodded. "You're right, I hadn't noticed that to tell you the truth, but you're right, but how is that even possible? I'm taking it we didn't all drop it in the forest afterwards, I didn't even have the same robes on so that couldn't have happened."

"Nope." Said Fred a bit bitterly. "We had ours stored away and in the morning it was just gone."

"But how?" Asked Harry again, legitimately stumped at this point.

"Leprechaun gold." Said George.

Harry's jaw went slack and he stared open mouthed for several moments before face palming. He and Gabrielle had actually laughed at the people scrambling for their gold, laughed at their stupidity. 'Damn karma to hell and back.' He thought with venom.

"That's bloody cruel of him, but genius to be honest." Harry conceded grudgingly. "He must have made a lot of enemies though."

"I'm sure he did." Said George, a malicious grin on his face. "And you're looking at two of them."

"Are you trying to blackmail him?" Asked Harry curiously.

They both shrugged in unison.

"Not if we can avoid it." George Answered.

"We just want him to pay up for real." Clarified Fred.

"How much did he owe you?" Asked Harry.

"About 100 galleons since he gave us just under three to one odds." Said Fred, not missing a beat.

Harry made to get up but Fred stopped him.

"Oi, where are you going."

"I'll pay you." Harry said bluntly.

"Like hell you will!" They said in unison, each taking an arm and pulling the younger boy back into his char.

"I'm serious." Said Harry.

"We know." The duo corassed in unison.

"But we don't want your money." Said Fred.

"It's him who should be paying." Continued George.

"But he won't." Said Harry. "You know he won't."

"Probably not." Conceded Fred with a sigh. "We're trying to think on a way to get him to pay up."

Harry thought for a few moments before he shrugged. "I don't know, I'll think on it."

"You don't need to help us." Said Fred.

"Yeah, you're busy enough with Quidditch and duelling as well as being our little prodigy in class." Said George.

Harry just smiled at him. "It's fine" cut in Harry. "If you won't let me pay you myself, at least let me help."

The twins just sighed.

"You are way too damn selfless for your own good." George concluded.

Harry just shrugged, not really knowing how to reply to that.

"Hey!" Said Fred excitedly, looking between Harry and his twin. "You said you want to help right?" Harry nodded. "Well here's a bloody good idea" continued Fred proudly. "How about you help us find a way into the Triwizard Tournament!"

…..

The next day came, and with it the second duelling tryout.

Overall, the duels were quite fun to watch. Cedric Diggory in particular was rather impressive, beating all three of his opponents on that day.

Harry had demolished the fifth year Ravenclaw girl, it had not even been fair. She had attacked with little more than basic jinxes and charms. Harry had stunned her quickly. Terry Boot was better then Harry had expected, but was nowhere near fast enough, nor did he have the spell repertoire to beat Harry.

Now though, Harry stood across from the boy who he knew would be his biggest challenge thus far.

Abraham Montague was a sixth year Slytherin. He was the second best in his year at Defense Against the Dark Arts, trailing only Cedric. He had apparently been tutored in duelling, or as Harry suspected, fighting at home by his father and had already gained a reputation for being the most dangerous duelist there. It was not just his wide array of dangerous spells, but his willingness to both play dirty and show absolutely no remorse. Harry knew his defense would have to be on point as he bowed slightly to the boy who merely jerked his head in response.

"Begin." Piped up Flitwick.

The duel started fast and furious.

The boy went on the offence at once, throwing cutting curses, blasting curses, and some others that Harry was less familiar with at him all in quick succession.

The boy's onslaught did not end for several minutes, and as Harry's shoulder was grazed by a well disguised cutting curse, he thought just for a moment that he may be overwhelmed.

The boy fired off yet another blasting curse and Harry sidestepped and chose to go on the offensive.

Harry fired a leg locker at the boy, followed by a stunner, disarming spell and bludgeoner.

Montague was clearly taken aback by the speed Harry had fired, there was literally no gap between his spells, one just streamed right behind the other. Rapid casting was very rare, he had certainly not anticipated it from a fourth year.

He managed to dodge the leg locker and raise a shield to block the stunner and disarmer. The bludgeoner broke through his shield and sent him staggering backwards as a cutting curse opened up a wound on his chest.

He snarled as he began to lose blood quickly, he knew he had to finish Potter now or he would lose this duel in the next couple of minutes.

Again he fired another onslaught at Potter, but the boy was fast, faster then he had expected and in an instant he had sidestepped his curses but an idea had come to Montague.

"Confringo!" He shouted triumphantly, pointing his wand at the ground at Harry's feet.

Harry's wand movement was interrupted as the floor under his feet exploded, sending him flying backwards through the air. He smacked hard into the shields which sent a painful jolt through his body as he went ridgid for a second.

Montague cried out in triumph as Potter flew backwards, raising his wand and meaning to step forwards to finish the job when he couldn't. He tried, but simply couldn't. And then he realized why, he was stuck in place, he had clearly been routed to the spot with a sticking charm.

He raised his wand to undo the magic when suddenly he felt it lift.

He spun, intent on making Potter pay when he was hit straight in the face with a cutting curse before hit in the nether regions with a stinging hex before finally being blasted backwards with a bludgeoning curse, all had come in the span of a second.

He flew backwards and smashed painfully into the forcefield, slumping to the ground as he cried out in pain from three different spells.

The pain was so much and so unexpected that he did not even notice when a smiling Harry Potter swiftly disarmed him, and held his wand up with a triumphant grin on his face.

…..

As the one previous had, the next week passed without fus and Harry found himself in the great hall to duel his fellow Hogwarts students one final time.

He ran though his first opponent before running into a sixth year Ravenclaw girl who was very good. She was smooth and fluid with her offence, versatile in her defense and both clever as well as unpredictable in her tactics.

Harry managed to essentially overwhelm her with speed and power. He suspected she was technically the best duelist there, but she lacked the speed and power to keep up with him and Cedric.

Speaking of Cedric, Harry met Cedric in the final duel.

Cedric came at him hard right away, sending a stunner, full body bind, cutting, and blasting curse all in quick succession. Harry shielded the first three but this time he had expected an impact spell so he dove aside, firing a bludgeoner at Cedric's leg as he rolled. The boy dodged by an inch but was caught by Harry's follow up cutting curse to the shoulder.

If Harry had hoped this would slow Cedric down he had been very disappointed. Instead it seemed to light a fire under Cedric as he pressed forward and threw everything at Harry, kitchen sink and all.

It was a long, painful ten minutes later that saw Harry and Cedric breathing heavy, sweating profusely and nodding at each other in confirmation of the respect they now had. But the duel was not over, they were at a stalemate, a metaphorical impasse.

Cedric flicked his wand and sent flaming arrows at Harry who shielded, Cedric's blasting curse missed by an inch. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, his shield would not have held against it.

Cedric had given him an idea though, he had used fire in several creative ways in this duel and Harry figured he had a pretty good knowledge of it. So, would he know of the most dangerous fire? Harry smirked, mentally thanking Tom Riddle for showing him the spell to manipulate fire. Not increase its power, but to mould its shape.

Instead of spelling out his name though, Harry fired a flaming lion from the tip of his wand and all hell broke loose.

The older students in the hall who suspected cursed fire screamed and made for the exit. Snape drew his wand, a furious and terrified look on his face and Flitwick stepped forward his voice a bit shaky.

"Fiendfyre is banned Mr. Potter, not just in duels but in…"

He never finished as Cedric's eyes had gone wide in realization and horror and he cut him off.

"Fiendfyre? Have you lost your bloody mind Potter? Aguamenti Maxima!"

An explosion of water erupted from the tip of Cedric's wand and shot towards the flaming lion. Harry actually had time to smirk at Cedric and mentally congratulate himself on the success of his plan.

Right before the water made impact with the lion, Harry cancelled his minor spell with no more than a flick of his wand and everyone gasped as Cedric's eyes went wide.

"Dipulso."

The wall of water flew towards Cedric, slamming into him at max velocity and throwing him against the forcefield hard, pinning him there.

Harry followed his banishing charm up with a disarmed and Flitwick and Snape hastily vanished the near ocean of water threatening to drown its creator.

Harry walked over to Cedric, breathing heavy from the excursion of the duel and offered the fallen boy his hand.

For several long minutes Cedric did not take it, he just stared up at Harry, slack jawed in disbelief before finally he broke out in hysterics and took Harry's offered hand to pull himself to his feet before clasping Harry on the shoulder, finally gaining control of himself once more.

"We've got this for sure!"

…..

Aside from duelling the weeks had not presented much in terms of classes, Harry however had been practicing tirelessly.

Harry had not had a lesson yet with Dumbledore, but he had recorded some books on defense mainly as well as transfiguration.

Harry practiced every night in the Room of Requirement. Most nights he would return to the common room after midnight, magically exhausted and unable to make it up the stairs. These nights he would simply sleep on one of the sofas nearest the fire.

Hermione had pestered him as to where he was disappearing to but he managed to fend her off for the time being.

One person… or ghost he had not managed to fend off however had been Nearly Headless Nick.

The ghost had tried to say something about Sirius twice now, it had only served to infuriate Harry and he had simply put on his cloak and vanished. He was now even going to the effort of checking the Marauder's map in an effort to avoid the ghost now, he was not about to be reminded of that, not when he was doing so well, he could afford no distractions, with his schedule and ambitions he had no time for Nick to bring up painful memories.

…..

At long last the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were set to arrive. After the final class of the day, that being transfiguration for the fourth year Gryffindors, the school had gathered outside the front doors to the castle, an unspoken sense of anticipation having settled over the masses as they eagerly awaited the arrival of their foreign counterparts.

Harry got great amusement listening to the inconceivable propositions in regards to the method of transportation that each school would take. One boy had actually suggested Durmstrang would arrive on the backs of dragons.

After a long while, Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers. "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" Said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"There!" Yelled a sixth year pointing over the forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick, or indeed a hundred broomsticks was hurtling across the deep blue sky to the castle growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" Shreaked one of the first years, losing her head completely.

"Don't be stupid, it's a flying house." Said Dennis Creevey.

Dennis's guess was closer, as the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the forbidden forest and the lights shining from the castles windows hit it they saw a gigantic, powder blue, horse drawn carriage the size of a large house soaring towards them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backwards as the carriage drew ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed then with an almighty crash that made Neville jump backwards onto a Slytherin fifth years' foot as the horses' hooves, each larger than dinner plates, hit the ground at a gallop.

A second later the carriage landed too, bounding upon its vast wheels as the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

Harry just had time to see that the door of the carriage bared a coat of arms, two crossed golden wands each emitting three stars before it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forwards, fumbled for something on the carriage floor and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully.

Then Harry saw a shiny, high heeled black shoe emerge from inside of the carriage, a shoe the size of a child's sled. Followed almost immediately by the largest woman he had ever seen in his life. The size of the horses and carriages now made sense, a few people gasped.

Harry had only ever seen one person as large as this woman in his life, and that was Hagrid. He doubted whether there was an inch of difference in their height, though somehow maybe because he was used to Hagrid, this woman, now at the foot of the steps and looking around at the waiting wide eyed crowd, seemed even more unnaturally large.

As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall she was revealed to have a handsome olive skinned face, large, black, liquid looking eyes and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black sattin, and many magnificent opals gleamed from her neck and from her thick fingers.

Dumbledore started to clap, and the students, following his lead began to clap too, many of them standing on tiptoe the better to look at this woman.

Her face took on a gracious smile as she walked forwards towards Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself had barely to bend to kiss her knuckles.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said, "welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbledore," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice "I 'ope I find you well?"

"On excellent form, I thank you." Said Dumbledore.

"My pupils." Said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Harry, who's attention had been focused on Madame Maxime had not noticed around fifteen boys and girls each, thirty total had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, though it was unsurprising seeing as their robes seemed to be made of a fine silk and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few of them had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads.

From what Harry could see of their faces, (they were standing in Madame Maxime's enormous shadow) they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.

"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment." Said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him? Or would you like to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"We will wait." Declared Madame Maxime, drawing scandalized looks from some of her students. "We would not wish to come across as anyssing less zan grassious and I 'ave matters regarding my 'orses I must speak to you about."

"An honourable decision." Complemented Dumbledore with a smile.

"Madame." Piped up one of the girls near the front of the crowd asked, her scarf still wrapped tightly around her head.

"Me and my sister are freezing, could we pleaze make our way inside?"

Madame Maxime looked thunderous for a moment, but when she saw the identity of the student her face softened considerably.

"Of course Fleur, we will need you and your sister in top form for the tournament. We would not wish for you to get a cold." She then turned to Dumbledore. "Would it be possible for you to spare a student to escort zem inside to the 'all Dumbledore?"

"Why of course, Madame." Said Dumbledore politely, scanning the front of the crowd until his eyes rested on Harry with a twinkle. "Mr. Potter, would you be so kind?"

The Beauxbatons students began murmuring, many of them craning their neck to get a look at him as he stepped forward, his hood drawn on his cloak.

"Of course, sir." He said, inclining his head to Madame Maxime.

The two girls stepped forward. They were both tall, one a few inches taller than the other. Harry felt an odd pull towards one of them and his mind began to go fuzzy, but he shook his head forcefully and rid himself of the feeling before looking to the other and his mind truly did go blank, his jaw miraculously not falling open.

Tall, slim, graceful and as devastatingly beautiful as he remembered with her silvery blonde hair fanning out behind her in the wind and her pale blue eyes shining with warmth as she looked at him was Gabrielle Delacour.

 **Author's Endnote:**

 **You guys won't know it because the delay in chapter nine will cover it up well, but this one took a while to write, I had a few ideas for the end, and I wasn't sure on how much detail I wanted to go into on the month, because I definitely wanted to get to this point in this chapter.**

 **I know I mostly skimmed over the month, but I think the chapter was long enough as is so I hope you guys enjoy it.**

 **Next chapter; the feast, the announcement of the teams, and an ominous warning.**


	11. Ghosts and Goblets

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with the franchise, I am only a teenager with what I hope is an enjoyable imagination and a decent knack for writing.**

 **Authors Note 1:**

 **Well, I know a lot of you guys have been looking forward to Harry/Gabrielle interactions, so, let the games begin.**

 **Authors Note 2:**

 **Sorry for the long delay on this chapter, it's been written for a while but life happens sometimes.**

 **Authors Note 3:**

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and Mineng101 for their work on this chapter, and thank you to LambadOfTheDead for the help with the accents.**

 **Review Responses**

* * *

 **Bountyhunter1977: I appreciate your input, do not worry, what you speak of will happen eventually (though not soon) as for bringing people with him, you have to realize that Harry is far less trusting in this fic (as I actually chose to have the abuse affect him, unlike in cannon)**

 **Gerry: Thank you for the kind words my friend, I really do appreciate it. I usually try to respond to those kind of reviews personally but it will not let me PM you so I figured I would do so here.**

 **Lord N.G.G: You are definitely right about the bit about jumping week to week, it made sense when I wrote it, but sounded a bit repetitive once I read the chapter back after posting it. As for your bit about the room, I am saving that for flashbacks.**

 **Tyler'sPrincess: Thank you for the constant support my friend, you have probably shown it on this story more than anyone else. Based on your constant enthusiasm for more interaction based chapters around Harry and Gabrielle, I think you will really enjoy this one. Let me know what you think in a review as you always do.**

" **Speech"**

' **Internal Dialogue'**

 _French_

 **Previously**

 **Tall, slim, graceful and as devastatingly beautiful as he remembered with her silvery blonde hair fanning out behind her in the wind and her pale blue eyes shining with warmth as she looked at him was Gabrielle Delacour.**

 **Chapter 11 Ghosts and Goblets.**

Harry's mind was in a very content state as he looked up into the eyes of the older girl, finding his mind far too fuzzy to think as he became lost in the depths of her pale blue eyes.

From far away he heard Dumbledore's voice and his words brought him back to reality.

"If you two would follow Mr. Potter he will lead you to the great hall."

Harry snapped out of his trance and nodded towards the two girls before slowly making his way to the castle, gently shaking his head to clear it from the fog that seemed to have overtaken his brain.

They walked for a moment before Gabrielle quickened her stride to end up side by side with Harry, a soft smile on her lips.

"It is nice t-t s-see you again, 'Arry." She said through a shiver.

Harry stopped, forcing the other two girls to do the same and looked at both. They were both in what he assumed to be their school uniforms. Gabrielle's sister at least was wearing gloves and had a scarf wrapped around her head, Gabrielle had nothing of the sort.

Without even thinking about it Harry shed his cloak quickly, drawing a confused look from Gabrielle as he withdrew his wand, noting that the cloak would be too short for the taller girl.

"Engorgio." He muttered, forcing the cloak to grow to a more appropriate length before he held it out to Gabrielle who shook her head looking scandalized.

"But you will be cold." She stated simply.

Harry shook his head, trying not to shiver himself. "I'll live, I imagine I'm a fair bit more used to it than you are."

Gabrielle didn't seem to like the idea but she could evidently see that Harry would not take no for an answer because she just sighed and took the offered cloak, wrapping it around herself and sighing gratefully before smiling at him once more.

"Thank you." She said, her smile making it all worth it in Harry's eyes. He forced his thoughts to clear once more, why would he think that?

"Don't mention it." He said as they continued their path towards the front door of the school.

"It is nice seeing you again." Gabrielle reaffirmed.

Harry smiled. "Same to you, Gabrielle." He said as he pushed open the oak front door. "Welcome to Hogwarts." He added with a contented smile as they entered the castle proper.

Gabrielle's eyes seemed to dart around the entrance hall at breakneck speed, seeming to be trying to absorb every last detail and imprint it in her memory. Her sister seemed almost the opposite, indifferent as she looked around once before her eyes returned forwards.

"It seems much larger zan Beauxbatons." Gabrielle commented idly.

Harry just shrugged. "I know practically nothing about Beauxbatons aside from what you told me at the World Cup, so I couldn't tell you." He let his own eyes roam across the hall before sighing contentedly and speaking once more. "We should probably get into the Great Hall."

They had taken but a few steps when a voice rang out, causing Harry to freeze and growl in frustration, drawing confused looks from both Gabrielle and her sister, whom Harry could not remember the name of.

"You have been avoiding me, Harry."

"Hello, Nick." Harry said flatly without turning around. They had all come to a stop again to Harry's annoyance. If the other two would have kept walking he would have gladly joined them, but now that they had stopped he could hardly walk away.

"You have proven rather difficult to find." Said Nearly Headless Nick as he drifted ever closer, wearing a look of disapproval on his face.

"Excusez-moi," Cut in Gabrielle politely while her sister looked on in what was at the very leas t surprise, possibly even horror, though Harry could not be sure as her scarf obscured her face. "But who are you?" Gabrielle asked.

Nick surveyed her before inclining his head carefully with a smile. "My apologies, fair lady, I am Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, head ghost of the noble house of Gryffindor."

Gabrielle just quirked an eyebrow in question. "'ead ghost?"

"Yes yes, each of the four Hogwarts houses are represented by a ghost who was once a resident of the house. You know, provide the living with some extra wisdom and the like."

He then turned his gaze upon Harry. "Some people make that more difficult than others."

"And some people don't need your assistance." Said Harry sharply, his back still turned.

"And that is where you are wrong my young friend."

"If this is about him, you can float on away, I'm not interested." Said Harry bluntly, Nick had tried to broach the topic of Sirius earlier in the year and Harry would not have it, not now, likely not any time soon.

Nick sighed. "You're guilt is unwarranted, Harry." He tried in a soft voice.

Harry tensed, fury coursing through his veins like blood as he physically tried not to shake as his hand twitched towards his wand.

"Shut up." Harry hissed coldly.

His voice took the other three occupants of the hall aback as it was barely above a whisper but was filled with venom and fury. He turned to face the ghost and his anger was evident. It marred his features and his eyes, his emerald green eyes resembled the killing curse as they glowed with a sort of green fire that was being fuelled by the rage inside of him. How dare Nick bring up Sirius? How dare he make assumptions?

"There's a difference between providing wisdom and trying to be the voice of reason in things you don't understand and know nothing about."

Nick simply looked at him speculatively while Gabrielle looked confused, shooting Harry a questioning look which he did not answer.

"You are worse than I thought." Proclaimed the ghost sadly. "You blame yourself for things that were out of your control…"

"I said shut up!" His voice was still not loud, but was certainly a modicum louder then it had been earlier. "You know nothing! You have no idea what happened, you have no idea…"

He trailed off, though his voice did not betray him he had to stop talking for the emotion that had risen inside of him at the name of Sirius was threatening to leak through his voice.

"No?" Questioned the ghost. "I know nothing? Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself? There was nothing you could have done, quite frankly the results you achieved were spectacular, but you are too blind to realize the truth. You bottle it up, bottle up all of the emotions and they get the best of you, the guilt eats you alive even now as we stand here in the presence of our guests." He said, his voice harsh as he addressed the teen. "I would even hazard a guess that it is that same guilt that has driven you to do Merlin knows what in the dead of the night? Training in some manner I imagine, returning to the common room half dead, with not enough energy remaining to make it up the stairs?"

He simply shook his head. "I am right, but you are terrified. For all of your bravery, and you very well may be the bravest person I have ever met, but for all of your bravery you are scared to death of yourself, scared to death of your emotions, and scared to death of asking for help when you so desperately need it."

Harry's eyes shown with fury and the temperature in the room seemed to spike for a moment before he closed his eyes, fists clenched as he took a deep intake of breath before slowly letting it out and letting his eyes open.

When they did the fury was less prevalent though still there, in the place of much of the vanquished fury was stubbornness and defiance.

"You're wrong." His voice was flat yet so cold. "You're wrong about all of it, you understand nothing Nick, I was too slow in my actions, too complacent in my training and he paid for it. It will not happen again, I will do anything to make sure it never does, to anyone."

Harry spun on his heel and gestured for the two girls to follow him as he made his way towards the Great Hall, trying not to let the fury, guilt, and grief overwhelm him.

…..

Gabrielle was confused. Confusion was not something she was used to feeling. She was intelligent and she knew it. Very rarely (if ever) was she confused in classes, aside from potions. She was also very perceptive and observant. A combination of these three things meant that it was rather rare that she found herself confused, but now… confusion in her opinion was not a strong enough word.

In the last number of minutes she had arrived in a foreign country, met once again with the boy who had risked his life for her cause, shared a pleasant conversation with him, she had witnessed the obvious love he held for the castle, she had witnessed how his body had literally relaxed the second they entered the castle. And then she had been confused.

When Sir. Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington had made his introduction she had been surprised. There were no ghosts at Beauxbatons, and though she knew from reading that they existed at Hogwarts, she did not expect them to be so… social.

And then the conversation that followed.

As a Veela she was very good at sensing emotions, but now… they were so strong, stronger than any she had felt before. She did not know why this was, but she imagined it must just be the pure magnitude of them.

The contents of the conversation was confusing enough. Guilt? Why would Harry feel guilty? And it was evident that he did. She did not need to be attuned to emotions to know it, it was written in his eyes and face when he had turned to face the ghost. But the magnitude of it, it was so terribly strong. What could this boy have done to warrant such guilt?

And then there was the bit about half killing himself in the dead of night?

Gabrielle did not understand any of it, but she could feel that it was tearing him apart.

As Harry led them onwards towards the Great Hall, she could not help but feel sadness for him. She did not know why but feeling that emotion from him caused her so much pain, she just wished she knew more.

"This is the entrance to the Great Hall." His voice still carried no emotion, and it was clear that his mind was elsewhere.

He reached for the door but Gabrielle stopped him with a hand to his shoulder, the slight twitch away from her made her frown, but she figured she just scared him, seeing as he seemed so lost in thought.

"What was all zat about?" She asked him, looking into his eyes, willing him not to lie.

"Nothing of importance." He said, she could see the lie in his eyes but could also see the defiance, the unwillingness to speak. She just sighed.

"I know it was not nossing, but I understand you do not trust me wiss zat kind of information." She then smiled somewhat sadly, somewhat excitedly at him. "Now, lead on."

As he opened the door it happened again, a look of prideful contentedness crossed his face, and all of the tension from the previous conversation seemed to leave his body. He loved this place, it was so blatantly obvious, he loved the castle far more than any student would normally love a school, she found it peculiar but didn't dare ask.

Gabrielle looked on in wonderment at the sight before her, the sight of an elaborately decorated hall, with four, long, elegant tables, each (she assumed) representing one of the four famed houses of Hogwarts, with another table that she assumed was for staff members. Torches floated around the hall, looking like hundreds of overgrown fireflies. It was beautiful, one of the most beautiful places Gabrielle had ever seen, and in that moment she could understand why Harry Potter loved it so much.

…..

Harry quite literally felt himself relax the very second he entered the Great Hall, but it was even before that. He could not explain it, and he hadn't even noticed it at the time, but later when he would look back at it, he thought he had calmed down the moment Gabrielle had touched him.

It had just sent a warmth through his body, a kind of comfort, and though he had reflexively flinched away, he would later admit to himself that somehow, though it made no rhyme or reason, her mere touch had put him at ease.

Gabrielle seemed to be taking it all in, even her sister seemed grudgingly impressed as she nodded approvingly in the direction of the floating torches.

"Magnifique." Breathed Gabrielle. "It is beautiful." She said breathlessly as she turned to look at Harry, her eyes sparkling as she made eye contact with him, this time Harry did everything he could not to get lost in her pale blue orbs, and though he felt a similar warmth spread throughout his body, he managed to stay present. "You really love it don't you?"

The question was asked softly, though Harry did not miss the curiosity in her tone.

He smiled a warm smile despite himself and just nodded.

"More than almost anything." He admitted.

She nodded, seeming to have had her suspicions confirmed before she looked curiously around once again.

"Are ze tables each for a 'ogwarts 'ouse?" She asked.

"'ouse?" Asked her sister, speaking for the first time. "What about 'ouses?"

"Have you not read about 'ogwarts, Fleur?" Asked Gabrielle, sounding half excited half exasperated.

"Non." Replied Fleur with a shake of her head. "I do not spend my time reading about ozer schools."

"Not even once we knew about ze tournament?" Pressed Gabrielle.

Fleur shook her head. "It does not matter, but what were you saying about 'ouses?"

Gabrielle just sighed before looking at Harry instead of her sister as she bit her bottom lip, looking rather unsure about her next statement. "Zere are four 'ouses: Slysserin, 'ufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor." she gestured to the correct table as she announced each of the Hogwarts four.

"But what are zey? What is the point of zem?" Asked her sister.

Gabrielle looked uncertain before speaking. "Each 'ouse is based on your personality, so you are around like minded people. I believe Gryffindor is for zose of bravery, 'ufflepuff for loyalty, Ravenclaw for intelligence, and Slysserin for cunning?"

Though it was clearly meant to be an explanation it was clear that it was phrased as a question to Harry as she looked to him for confirmation.

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he pondered for a moment. "You're partly right. You're right on the four houses, and you're right about most of the qualities, but you're a bit off on how we are sorted."

Gabrielle frowned, looking rather disappointed in herself. "Enlighten me zen." She said, smiling at the end as she seemed to lean towards him. Harry smiled, being strongly reminded of a particular bushy haired friend of his.

"Well, you said we were sorted based on personality, that's not entirely wrong, and this isn't actually made clear, but I think we are sorted based more on our beliefs and values. As for the qualities, you were pretty much right, but you missed a few. Hufflepuff is the house of loyalty, yes, but also of fairness and hard workers. Ravenclaws do tend to be intelligent, but it's actually the pursuit of knowledge that they value. Slytherin certainly values cunning, but they also value ambition."

Fleur and Gabrielle could not help but notice that Harry didn't seem the biggest fan of Slytherin if his expression was anything to go by.

"And Gryffindor is the house of bravery and chivalry." He finished with a fond smile.

"Would it not make more sense to sort by personality zough?" Asked Fleur as if it was obvious.

Harry shook his head.

"Why not?" She asked sceptically.

"Fleur." Chastised Gabrielle, having picked up on her sisters tone.

Harry just sighed. "Because of people like me."

"Excusez-moi?" Asked Fleur, sounding confused.

"Do you know how we are sorted, as in the process, not the criteria?"

"Non." Replied Gabrielle.

At that moment though, an unearthly song filled the Great Hall, making Gabrielle draw her wand as Fleur spun, trying to locate the source of the noise.

Harry simply stood there, jaw hanging open as he recognized the ethereal song of a phoenix.

The very next moment there was a burst of fire right in front of the three teens, making Fleur scream and Gabrielle gasp and jump backwards. Harry didn't react beyond a slight step backwards in surprise.

Where the fire had been a split second earlier was a beautiful, breathtaking, all to familiar phoenix.

The phoenix let out a happy note before dropping what it was carrying. Harry caught it before it could hit the ground as Fawkes swooped around his head and landed gracefully on his shoulder, letting out another happy note as he rubbed his great head against Harry's cheek.

Harry felt any worries leave him at the mere contact and smiled contentedly as he gently raised a hand and stroked the great plumage of the bird.

"Hello there, old friend." Harry said softly.

"Is zat a phoenix?" Gabrielle's voice was barely above a whisper as she approached very hesitantly.

"In the flesh." Said Harry with a smile.

"And you're actually familiar wiss 'im?" Asked Fleur, evidently disbelieving.

"Of course 'e is." Answered Gabrielle. "it would not 'ave approached 'im if 'e wasn't, not a chance."

Harry just nodded. "Let's just say we have some history." He said, looking fondly at the creature on his shoulder which nodded its head, seemingly in agreement with Harry's statement.

"Can I touch it?" Asked Gabrielle hesitantly as she gently raised one hand, palm out.

Harry looked unsurely at the bird on his shoulder which simply nodded.

Gabrielle tentatively reached out a hand towards Fawkes who leaned forwards, rubbing his head up against her palm. Gabrielle smiled at the contact and began to gently stroke the bird in the same way Harry had done a second earlier.

Harry couldn't help but smile at the look of awe on the girl's face and tried to send a silent message to the bird.

Evidently Fawkes got it, as in a rush of wings he had went from Harry's shoulder to Gabrielle's. The girl gasped at the event but looked unbelievably pleased.

Fleur also approached hesitantly, and was also permitted contact by Fawkes.

"'e is beautiful." She admitted, with a content smile now on her face as well.

Harry just nodded.

After a moment, Fawkes flew up into the air and just hovered there before seemingly gesturing at the hat in Harry's hands before disappearing in another burst of fire.

Only then did Harry realize why the phoenix had come, for now he was holding the ancient sorting hat.

"Right," he said, seeming to come out of a trance. "This is the sorting hat, it sorts the first years into houses every year by looking into their minds after being put on their head."

"Ok…," spoke up Gabrielle, "but what waz zat bit about people like you being the reason it doesn't sort by personality?"

"Because, my dear," answered the voice of the hat, shocking all three as a rip near the brim opened wide. "People like young Mr. Potter are enigmas."

"'ow so?" Asked Gabrielle, now seeming to be beyond interested. Even Fleur, who had largely seemed uninterested, was now paying very close attention.

"Well, to use the example of Mr. Potter, he fit into all houses, if you go off of personality."

This caused both girls to look at Harry, Fleur with great curiosity and Gabrielle with a bit of that and another emotion Harry could not place.

"Mr. Potter had the ambition of a Slytherin, and yes, he was and I am sure he still is likely more ambitious than any in the house of serpents. I would dare to say he is the most ambitious student to pass through these halls in decades." Harry tried to protest but the hat cut him off. "He has a burning thirst for knowledge, and was beyond eager to learn the intricacies of magic, so he would have fit very well into Ravenclaw. His work ethic was extremely high, higher than most in Hufflepuff in fact, and he is loyal, oh yes. And as he is in Gryffindor he clearly exemplifies the traits of bravery and chivalry."

"So 'ow did you decide zen?" Asked Fleur curiously.

"Fleur." Gabrielle warned her for the personal question, as she had already realized harry was a rather private person.

"Without going into too much personal detail, Mr. Potter was correct in saying it was his assessment that I sorted based on values and beliefs. Though Mr. Potter valued knowledge, he did not, if you will forgive me Mr. Potter, have the confidence for Ravenclaw at the time, not by a long shot. Though he would have fit in well, it was not to be."

Harry made a face at the reminder, but inclined his head in acknowledgement as he could not deny the truth of that statement.

"What about the ozers?" Asked Fleur, not at all heeding her sisters earlier warning.

"Hufflepuff was easy," said the hat. "I can not reveal much on this, as I am sure Mr. Potter would not appreciate it, but though he valued loyalty greatly, it was not something he had the strongest connection with, so that option was out. So then there were two; Gryffindor and Slytherin." the hat paused for several moments before addressing Harry. "Have you come to terms with the fact that I was correct about Slytherin?"

"Maybe you were, but it wouldn't have been the right house for me."

"But it would have, things would have been very different than what you think, but I digress. Gryffindor it was, he personified the traits, and he wanted it beyond all, valued the house beyond all others, so there you have it."

Gabrielle nodded thoughtfully at the description, looking at Harry with the same look she had worn earlier. "So you are in Gryffindor?"

Harry nodded, a smile crossing his face again. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

She nodded.

At that moment a large amount of noise began to filter into the hall as the students were evidently making their entrance. In a flash of fire Fawkes was back, and just as quickly he was gone, taking the hat with him. Harry smiled, he had no idea why the phoenix was choosing to be so helpful, but he was hardly going to complain.

It was at that moment that the students of all three schools began to filter their way into the Great Hall. Harry inclined his head respectfully to Fleur Gabrielle before making his way into the crowd to find his friends. Little did he know that a set brilliant blue eyes never left his retreating figure, a very thoughtful expression upon her angelic features.

…..

"Harry, do you know who's here?"

That was the first thing Ron said when they met up again. This was followed by a session of hero worship over Viktor Krum. Harry had to admit that seeing Malfoy whisper in Krum's ear at the Slytherin table did make him feel sick.

The students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had finally seated themselves after a number of minutes. The students of Durmstrang at the Slytherin table, and the students of Beauxbatons seeking sanctuary with the Ravenclaws.

At that moment the heads of all three magical schools arrived, with Dumbledore in the middle and Maxime and the other man to his left and right respectively.

"I'm guessing that's the Durmstrang headmaster?" Harry asked his friends, having not been present for their arrival.

"Yeah, Karkaroff I think his name was." Said Ron in a whisper.

When their headmistress entered, the students of Beauxbatons stood respectfully, and did not retake their seats until she was seated to the left of Dumbledore with Karkaroff to his right. Dumbledore however remained standing and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and most particularly, guests." Said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh, and Harry thought it was Fleur, though couldn't be sure through the sea of heads blocking his view.

"No one's making you stay." Hermione whispered, brisling at her.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast, I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home."

He sat down and Harry saw Karkaroff lean forwards at once and engage Dumbledore in conversation.

The plates in front of them filled themselves with food as usual. The house elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops, there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Harry had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

"What's that?" Asked Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak and kidney pudding.

"Bouillabaisse." Said Hermione happily.

"Bless you." Said Ron.

"It's French" said Hermione rolling her eyes, "I had it on holiday the summer before last, it's very nice."

"I'll take your word for it." Said Ron, helping himself to black pudding.

The Great Hall somehow seemed much more crowded than usual even though there were not too many more additional students there. Perhaps it was because there differently coloured uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep blood red.

Hagrid sidled into the hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He slid into his seat at the end and waved at Harry, Ron and Hermione with a very heavily bandaged hand.

"Skrewts doing alright, Hagrid?" Harry called.

"Thriven." Hagrid called back happily.

"Yeah, I'll just bet they are." Said Ron. "Looks like they've finally found a food they like doesn't it, Hagrid's fingers."

At that moment a soft, musical voice sounded out from not far from them.

"Excusez-moi, are you planning on eating any of ze Bouillabaisse?"

Harry looked up and met shocking blue eyes once more, again becoming a bit lost in their depths, though he pulled his mind back quickly. Ron on the other hand did not fare as well as Harry.

He stared up at her, but for a long moment seemed incapable of speaking, Harry could actually picture him start drooling. Deciding it was not worth the risk, he stepped in.

"You may have it." Said Harry.

"You are sure you are finished wiss it?" Asked Gabrielle.

"Yeah," said Ron dreamily. "Yeah it was excellent."

"Yes, thank you." Said Harry, drawing his wand in a flash and silently casting a levitation charm, hovering the stew into Gabrielle's hands.

She beamed at him. "Zat is rather impressive." She praised his silent casting and magical control before sending him one last smile and made her way back to join her fellow pupils at the Ravenclaw table.

The interaction seemed to bring Ron back to reality and out of wherever he had been moments earlier. "She's a Veela." He said hoarsely.

"Of course she isn't." Said Hermione tartly. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot."

But she wasn't entirely right about that.

As Gabrielle crossed the hall, many boys heads turned and some of them seemed to become temporarily speechless just like Ron.

"I'm telling you that's not a normal girl." Said Ron, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts."

"When you've both put your eyes back in" said Hermione briskly "you'll be able to see who's just arrived."

She was pointing up at the staff table, the two remaining empty seats had just been filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr. Crouch (Percy's boss) was now sitting beside Madame Maxime.

"What are they doing here?" Said Harry in surprise.

"They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?" Said Hermione. "I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."

When the second course arrived they noticed a number of unfamiliar puddings too. Ron attempted to tempt Gabrielle back over to their table to Harry's slight amusement, slight embarrassment, and slight disgust, but he was unsuccessful as the French girl seemed to have eaten her fill.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension filled the hall now, Harry felt a slight thrill of excitement wondering what was coming, and a great deal of apprehension and nervousness as he would very soon find out whether he made any of the Hogwarts teams.

"The moment has come." Said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start! I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket."

"The what?" Harry muttered, Ron shrugged.

"Just to clarify the procedure which we will be following this year, but firstly let me introduce for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" there was a polite smattering of applause. "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a beater, or simply because he looked so much more likeable, he acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Remembering him in his neat suit from the Quidditch World Cup, Harry thought he looked strange in wizards robes. His toothbrush moustache and strange parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament" continued Dumbledore "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel which will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word "champion" the attentiveness of the waiting students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness for he smiled as he said.

"The casket then if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the hall now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels, it looked very old. A murmur of excitement rose from the watching students, Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but being so tiny his head hardly rose above anyone else's.

"The instruction for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman." Said Dumbledore as Filch placed the box carefully on the table before him. "And they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks spaced throughout the school year and they will test the champions in many different ways. Their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction and of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word the hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, three champions will compete in the tournament;" Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the tournament tasks, and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector, the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped it three times on the casket, the lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the rim with dancing white blue flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be visible to everyone in the hall. "Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet." Said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have until October 31st to put their names forward, that gives you thirty days, four weeks and two days to declare yourselves as a potential champion. On Halloween night the goblet will return the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage students yield to temptation I will be drawing an age line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall, nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line." He ignored the multiple jeers from the younger students.

"Finally, in regards to the selection of champions, I wish to impress upon all of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding magical contract, there can be no change of heart once you become champion. Please be very sure therefore that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, we have more business to discuss as this year the tournament itself will not be the only form of competition between the three schools."

The tension from the Hogwarts students grew palpable as Dumbledore said this, Harry himself felt his own heart creep into his throat and he suddenly felt rather ill.

"So, let us discuss the competitions for the other respective tournaments. We will begin with the academic tournament:" the tension lessened slightly, for those partaking in one of the other two categories sat back. "There will be several competitions held throughout the year, each on individual topics. At the end of this series of challenges, the two highest scoring overall schools will meet in a final that will focus on a wide variety of topics as opposed to a specific field. Now, we will announce the teams, Professor Karkaroff if you would like to begin."

The man stood without preamble.

"The four representatives of Durmstrang academy will be, Zergrat Ivanov, Dmitry Petrikov, Johanne Larson and Egor Volkanovski."

There was a roar of approval from the Durmstrang crowd as they stomped their feet loudly in support of their representatives.

Madame Maxime stood next. "Ze representatives of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic will be, Josephine Lafreniere, Sofia Dubois, Fleur Delacour and Gabrielle Delacour."

The Beauxbatons students applauded politely, and the four girls all took to their feet, including a very relieved looking Gabrielle, and all gave grateful curtsies before retaking their seats.

When Dumbledore stood the hall went dead quiet causing his lips to twitch upwards in a smile.

"The students tasked with carrying the honour of Hogwarts are, Lilian Leclare of Ravenclaw, Merita Edgecombe of Ravenclaw, Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff, and Hermione Granger of Gryffindor."

The three house tables represented burst into thunderous support of their representatives while even the Slytherins clapped politely.

"Brilliant Mione!" Harry called over the crowd, wrapping his arm around the very relieved girl who was also blushing furiously at the applause.

"Next up," Spoke Dumbledore over the crowd. "Quidditch!"

At this the hall went dead silent as Karkaroff stood once more, a terribly smug smirk on his features. "The Durmstrang Quidditch team will consist of, Evgeni Blakonov, Ilya Petranova, Dmitry Barkov, Ruslem Ivanova, Sergei Karaganov, Pavel Dimitrov, and our team captain, Viktor Krum."

Many in the hall gasped at the revelation of Krum playing for Durmstrang and Harry felt his heart skip a beat when he heard the name.

"Shit." He cursed under his breath.

"For Beauxbatons;" Harry had not even noticed Maxime had stood. "Alternate captain Joseph Bourdain, Captain Claude Bourdain, Francis Desharnais, Jonathan Giroux, Maurice Chiteau, Mathieu Leblanc, and our second alternate captain, Sophie Sinclair."

Just as the academics had a moment earlier, the Beauxbatons Quidditch team rose to their feet and curtsied. Harry recognized Gabrielle's three friends from the Quidditch World Cup, including the two boys who he had played against in the pick up game.

Dumbledore stood when Maxime had taken her seat and the tension could be cut with a knife, Harry was turning slightly green, he had not been this nervous since his sorting.

"At this moment, I would like to pass it over to our team coach, Madam Hooch who will announce her selections."

Harry actually groaned as Dumbledore prolonged the moment even longer.

Hooch stood and Harry felt like he would vomit at any moment.

"Representing the glory of Hogwarts we have; Herbert Fleet of Hufflepuff, Fred Weasley of Gryffindor," she was cut off by tumultuous applause from the Gryffindor table, the Puffs took this moment to show their own approval for the keeper that had been chosen to represent them. "George Weasley of Gryffindor," another thunderous round of celebration from the lions. "Alternate captain Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor," again, an eruption from the red and gold table. "Alternate captain Roger Davies of Ravenclaw," the Ravenclaws erupted and Harry felt a bit of shock rise inside of him, he was sure Angelina or Roger would have been captain and then a horrible realization struck him. Cedric had captained Hufflepuff last year, this meant she was going with Cedric over him and was going to make him captain. "Lillian Leclare of Ravenclaw" another burst of applause before the hall went dead quiet, knowing how much was riding on this next choice. "And the team captain, Harry Potter of Gryffindor."

"DAMN RIGHT!" Exclaimed the Weasley twins, lunging forward and crushing Harry in a double hug as all four tables burst into thunderous support for their team captain.

"Was there ever any doubt?" Asked George.

"Not in the slightest!" Screened Fred over the cheers.

"If Mr. Potter would please come forward to receive his captain badge." Said Hooch.

Harry made his way forward on shaky legs, trying and not completely succeeding to hide the joy and surprise he was feeling in the moment.

When he made his way to the front he shook hands with Hooch and then Dumbledore who was beaming at him with the twinkle on full display.

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter." Said Dumbledore with a warm smile, "I dare say we are in for quite the rivalry in the seeker position."

"Indeed." Said Hooch as she stepped forward and pinned the badge to his robes.

The badge was made out of pure gold, with the Hogwarts crest emblazoned upon the front, the crest however, was sitting inside of a large letter C.

Harry slowly made his way back to his seat, receiving a standing ovation from the Hogwarts students, even most of the Slytherins were joining in.

"Good show, mate!" Said Ron proudly as he clasped Harry on the shoulder.

"Amazing job, Harry!" Squealed Hermione as she bounced up and down in her seat.

"And finally..." broke in Dumbledore, his voice somehow managing to drown out the thunderous applause that Harry was still being showered with, "the combatants in the inter school duelling tournament; Professor Karkaroff if you would."

The man stood. "Ruslem Ivanova, Ilya Petranova, and Egor Volkanovski."

The Durmstrang students stomped loudly once more, sounding as if an army was marching through the hall.

"Beauxbatons will be proudly represented by;" began Maxime without delay "Sophie Sinclair, Claude Bourdain, and Gabrielle Delacour."

The Beauxbatons students did their seemingly routine acceptance and sat back down before Dumbledore stood.

"And, our Hogwarts representatives are; Abraham Montague of Slytherin, Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff, and Harry Potter of Gryffindor."

The three tables who were set to be represented erupted in an obvious show of their approval and Harry was hailed a hero once more. The Ravenclaws were less rowdy but still applauded nonetheless.

"And now," spoke up Dumbledore, "I believe a good night's rest is in order for all of us, our esteemed guests in particular. With that being said I bid you all a goodnight."

Harry was making his way out of the hall when he felt a hand on his arm, he tensed, not having expected the touch and spun quickly to face his assailant but stopped dead as he was met with a dazzling smile.

"Congratulations." Said Gabrielle softly, smiling broadly as she spoke. "Quidditch captain and only in fourss year? You must truly be magnifique on a broom."

Harry blushed and shrugged. "Madam Hooch seems to think so at least."

Gabrielle just smiled at him. "You are being modest again, be proud of what you 'ave achieved." She then smiled at him. "But do not worry, your modesty will be justified soon enouss, after all, we are combatants now." She said, referencing the duelling tournament.

Harry nodded, finally coming to mentally. "I suppose we are." He concluded, the thought not having crossed his mind until this moment, for some reason the idea of duelling Gabrielle was not at all appealing to him.

"May ze best sorcerer win." Said Gabrielle, a slightly cocky smile crossing over her angelic features before they became serious once more and she smiled at him kindly one again. "But seriously, whatever happens in eizer tournament, be proud of your accomplishments, 'arry, and congratulations."

With those parting words Gabrielle glided off after the rest of her Beauxbatons companions and Harry followed the rest of the students out of the Great Hall, allowing her words to sink in and for one of the first times in his life allowing a sense of pride to fill him.

…..

As Gabrielle made her way out of the hall she felt a sense of unrelated pride wash over her and thought back to her conversation with Harry with a fond smile.

And then she froze as a wave of realization crashed over her.

She had felt guilt when they were talking to the ghost, pride when they spoke of houses, relief and pride when his name had been announced for the school teams and now pride after they had a conversation about the very thing.

The realization was absolute and undisputable.

'I am bonded to Harry Potter.' Was Gabrielle's last thought before she allowed herself to be rushed out of the castle by the crowd around her.

…..

 **Authors Endnote:**

 **This one turned out way longer than I was expecting but I didn't want to cut it short, so I hope you guys appreciated and enjoyed, it took a rather long time to finish but I know a lot of people were looking forward to more Harry/Gabrielle interactions, and even more of you were growing impatient that she had yet to figure it out so here you go and sorry, but I was taking my time with this one.**

 **I had actually debated several ways of figuring it out, and for a long time I had planned on her doing so at the selection of the champions. However, I think this is suitable and she is far too intelligent to miss all of the signs in one night, so I hope you all enjoyed.**

 **As always let me know how I did in a review or PM.**

 **Also, one more, I know that in cannon the other schools didn't arrive until the 30th of October. I am simply changing it, I did not forget.**

 **Next chapter: life goes on at Hogwarts, but some new faces insert themselves into what was previously considered the norm and Harry receives his first lesson from the greatest wizard since Merlin.**


	12. The Aftermath

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. It all belongs to J.K Rowling… thank god for that, I can only imagine what would happen if I owned it :)

Authors Note 1:

I want to take a quick minute to thank everyone for the support on this story in general! The support has blown me away and far surpassed my expectations. The last chapter in particular seemed to be quite the hit. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you all for your support, it really does mean a lot.

Authors Note 2:

Sorry for the long delay, life happened on my end, but I'm back.

Authors Note 3:

Thank you as always to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story.

Review Answers

jps986: I think you will see in this chapter that Harry agrees with you. As for justification… well, let's just say I am shaping Harry to be that leader, and though they are not necessarily obvious, Madam Hooch sees qualities in him that could manifest into strong leadership abilities if fine tuned.

TheHornedOwl: As the title implies, yes. Harry will still be selected as champion, I normally wouldn't just say that, but I view it as rather obvious so I don't consider it a spoiler. I am glad you and everyone else seem so excited about the other bits of the tournament though. I enjoy having a multi layered story, instead of just one that focuses itself around the three tasks that we have all seen a million times.

zcnk: I am with you my friend, this is not done well very often, which is why I figured I would try. Gabrielle's characterization is definitely one of the more difficult ones I've done, along with Daphne in POS and a few others in Birth of a Snake that have not been revealed yet. Despite all that though, I love writing her and find it a blast.

slucas123: I am glad you agree with Harry's characterization. I'm pretty much going for a more realistic portrayal of his cannon character if he had actually decided to apply himself , as opposed to an OOC.

"Speech"

'Internal Dialogue'

French

Parseltongue

Memories

Chapter 12: The Aftermath.

That night, Harry Potter should have had one of the easier sleeps of his life (not that that was saying much) but for some reason it evaded him.

He could not, for the life of him understand why. He was in the best mental state he had been in… he didn't know how long.

It had felt like a mountain had been lifted off of his shoulders when he had been selected for both the school's duelling and Quidditch teams. The captaincy was simply an unexpected bonus. One that Harry was very proud of yes, but at the end of the day, just icing on what was quite a delicious cake even without it.

He felt at ease, a feeling he was not at all used too. Especially as of late.

For some reason though, he could not sleep, he felt… confused? He didn't know what he felt. Even more confusing, he was sure whatever it was had nothing to do with him, or at least… shouldn't have.

He had just had one of the best days of his life, so why did he feel nervous? Panicked, afraid and above all else, confused? No, confused wasn't a strong enough word… lost. Lost was far closer to an accurate description.

…..

Little did Harry Potter know that the very source of his restlessness sat very much awake, her silvery blonde hair glowing in the moonlight as she looked out of the window with her mind racing at the speed of light.

'Harry Potter...'

That name had ran through the mind of Gabrielle Delacour time and time again, over and over since the realization had struck her. And now she had no doubt in her mind whatsoever that her realization was correct. It was almost as if her magic itself had confirmed it, it just felt… right.

Well, not necessarily the situation, simply her hunch.

She did not know Harry Potter, well, not really. She knew a bit about him, she knew he was a fourth year student who was clearly gifted with a wand, as his status on the schools duelling team confirmed. She knew that he was obviously brilliant on a broomstick, but what did she REALLY know about Harry Potter? The person that is.

'Not much.' Was the answer that she came to when asked this question.

The extent of what she knew is that he was intelligent, brave, a bit selfless and she suspected far too modest.

'All positive traits.' The voice inside of her head noted.

'Yes, but what don't we know?' Asked the other.

"Enough." Gabrielle said aloud, though it was barely more than a whisper.

She did not know how to react to the news, that much was blatantly obvious. She liked Harry Potter, or at least she thought she did. But, what would happen now? There was a lot riding on this for her. Sure, she wouldn't die, or anything drastic like that if it did not work out, but she had always wanted this to work. Since the bond had been formed she had pledged that she would find this mysterious young man and help him through his obvious problems and they would… what? Fall in love?

Yes, she supposed that was what she thought as her inner turmoil only continued.

And then there were those "issues."

Clearly, his calm exterior masked a lot of pain, that had been made rather clear to Gabrielle through the bond over the past number of months. Could it have anything to do with the conversation from the day before?

It had been a similar feeling that washed over the bond to what she had experienced from him months prior. Perhaps not quite as strong, and not quite as confused, but certainly similar.

It was clear to Gabrielle that Harry had not had an easy life. 'That would explain a lot actually.' She thought to herself, her memory flashing back to his duel in the forest after the Quidditch World Cup. No fourteen year old should be able to fight like that, but if his life was as miserable as it seemed then perhaps?

And then there was his reaction? How would she break it to him?

Especially with the chaos that seemed to be his life, Gabrielle was hardly going to waltz up to him and say, "Hello Harry, I know we barely know each other, but we're supposedly a perfect match for one another and I think we need to give this a try. So, how was your day ?"

Gabrielle just shook her head. She would have to tell him eventually, or would she? Could she win him over without telling him? Did she even want that? 'Yes.' Was her conclusive answer. She liked what she had seen of him thus far, and figured if they were so "compatible" it was worth a shot.

She didn't want to seduce Harry though. She would talk to him, hopefully get to know him and form a natural relationship with him. From there… they would just have to see how things played out.

Still mildly annoyed with the sheer amount of uncertainty in her life, but now at least mildly mollified by the fact she had least had a course of action, Gabrielle finally drifted off into what would be one of the more restless nights of sleep the young Veela could remember.

…..

The following day, Harry woke up with a rather luxurious stretch and a yawn. He had slept far better then normal and felt rather good, (despite the troubles getting to bed) though he imagined a large portion of that feeling likely came simply from the fact he was still riding the high of last night.

It had been a great night, and it was still a Sunday. He smiled to himself as he got dressed, realizing he had a completely free day today.

He was sure the school would be going mad at all of the events of the previous day, but the weekend meant he didn't really have to involve himself in all of that drama, something Harry was rather grateful for, as his name had come up enough last night that he was sure he would be, (as usual) right in the middle of it all. Giving the youngest player on the starting Hogwarts team the captaincy in particular was one move that Harry was sure would garner very mixed reactions, but he was honoured to wear the badge either way.

Speaking of said badge, Harry picked up the pure gold badge and examined it with pride.

It was not often Harry had felt that feeling of pride. When he had gotten his first O in each class, when he had first made the Quidditch team, when he had won his first game, and when last year, Gryffindor managed to capture the Quidditch cup, along with the first time at the beginning of his third year he managed to cast the Patronus charm under the instruction of Professor Lupin. That was pretty much the short list of times Harry had ever felt pride in his life.

But now, looking at this badge, an indisputable symbol of his skill in the game in which he loved, Harry smiled despite himself, as the tail end of a conversation from the night previous drifted into his mind once more. A conversation he had thought about probably more than was decent in the last number of hours, both in waking and sleeping.

Gabrielle just smiled at him. "You are being modest again, be proud of what you 'ave achieved." She then smiled at him. "But do not worry, your modesty will be justified soon enough, after all, we are combatants now." She said, referencing the duelling tournament.

Harry then frowned, the thought of having to face Gabrielle in a duel had occurred to him once again and he still did not find the idea at all appealing.

Shrugging, he focused his attention back on the ornate badge in his hand, and a contented smile crossed his face once more as he pinned the badge onto his robes and made his way down to the common room, intending on going to breakfast.

Normally, Harry would wait for Ron, but seeing as it was the weekend, Ron likely would not be awake for several more hours, and Harry, who had always been an early riser, did not much feel like waiting for his best friend.

When he entered the common room, it seemed to be empty, that was until someone called out to him from the shadows.

"Morning Harry."

Harry looked to the boy who had spoken as he stepped towards him. He was taller than Harry, though would probably be considered average, an inch or two taller then that at most. He was slightly pudgy, though not overly so and had a round, kind face.

"Good morning, Neville." Harry responded cheerfully.

Harry had grown to like Neville over the last few years, even if they had never really became close.

"Are you heading to breakfast?" Asked Neville somewhat timidly.

Harry nodded. "You can join me if you like." Offered Harry.

Neville, who had never really been great at asking for things he wanted due to his confidence issues, smiled at Harry gratefully before walking to his side as they exited the common room together.

"I haven't really got the chance to talk to you much this year." Noted Harry, "How has the year gone so far for you?"

Neville just shrugged, his shoulders slouching a bit. "Same as usual." He noted quietly. "Good in herbology, and even decent in astronomy and history, but useless in any of the practical classes, especially potions."

Harry winced at Neville's bluntness and at the mention of his least favourite class, despite it being one of his best.

Harry despised Severus Snape, a feeling that was happily (or as happily as anything ever was for the man) returned by Snape. They had disliked each other from the moment they had come into contact with one another in Harry's first year. Apparently Snape had had quite the feud with his father years earlier, and seemed to be content on taking out his pent up anger on the last living Potter.

Harry thought this was childish and pathetic if he was being honest, but he mostly kept that to himself, though he had complained about Snape a fair bit in his time.

However much Harry disliked the man, he knew it was worse for Neville.

Snape went after Neville more than he did him. This was likely because Harry, one of the three best potions students in his year, did not exactly give Snape a lot to criticize him about.

Neville, on the other hand, had always found potions to be a very difficult class, a feeling that was only made more intense by the fact that he not only disliked Snape, but was utterly terrified of the man, as had been displayed by Neville's boggart last year.

As for the other classes, Neville's assessment, though a bit harsh in Harry's eyes, was not completely unfounded.

He was certainly downplaying his work in herbology, Neville was a genius in the class and was only outdone by Daphne Greengrass, who was a genuine prodigy in the subject, as well as potions.

As for his other classes… Neville had never been the best in terms of wand work, Harry was being honest, though he had always thought it more of a confidence issue as oppose to lack of ability.

"You'll get there." Said Harry. "It's confidence that's your problem, it's all in your head. Besides, you're the best in Gryffindor at herbology."

Neville flushed a bit at the praise but looked rather pleased. "I just wish I could get better at the practical side of stuff like defense and Transfiguration."

"Just work on it, believe in yourself and it will come."

Neville smiled at him. "Thanks Harry, you're a good friend, but I'm not you or Hermione."

"You don't have to be, being Neville Longbottom will suit you fine."

Neville smiled again at that as they entered the great hall.

Due to the early nature of the hour, both Harry and Neville were surprised to see they were not the first at the Gryffindor table. There were four girls there already, to Harry's confusion he did not recognize them at first, and then he registered the blue uniforms of Beauxbatons and he shot a questioning look at Neville who just shrugged.

Harry and Neville made to sit away from them to give them space when one of them looked up, and Harry felt his stomach do an all to familiar, (but still just as annoying) flutter as he saw Gabrielle smiling at him as she gestured for him and Neville to come sit with them.

Neville looked stunned, not dazed like Ron, at least not to the same extent, it was more a shock that someone like Gabrielle would want to sit anywhere near someone like him.

Harry put a hand to his shoulder and gently guided him over to the girls, seeing no reason to be rude. Neville got the hint and shot Harry another grateful smile as they made their way over to the girls. Harry took an empty seat beside Gabrielle who smiled at him again, as Neville took the chair opposite him.

Harry could not help but notice that Gabrielle looked rather tired, though he thought it would be rather rude to comment.

"We don't bite, you know." Noted Gabrielle teasingly in reference to their earlier move to sit further down the table.

Neville blushed horribly, making one of Gabrielle's friends suppress a giggle. Harry fought off most of his own flush as he answered. "I try not to be presumptive."

Gabrielle just raised an eyebrow at him but one of her friends spoke up next. "I'm sure none of the girls mind ze Boy-Who-Lived being presumptive." Said the girl as she fluttered her long eyelashes at Harry, who was thoroughly baffled at how to respond to that.

It must have showed on his face because Gabrielle seemed to take pity on him as she gently chided her friend. "Sofia, ze boy just got 'ere, don't scare him off already."

The girl, Sofia, slapped on a far too innocent smile. "I waz only observing." She said with a wink at Harry, who chose to pretend that it went unnoticed.

The other three at the table all seemed to be about Gabrielle's age.

The girl who had spoken, Sofia, seemed to be tall with light brown hair, warm hazel eyes, and soft features. The other two were both blonde and slim, one with brown eyes, and the other with a deep blue. The blue eyed girl appeared to be a bit on the smaller side, Harry absentmindedly thought she would have a good build for a seeker, while the other girl seemed about average.

"I apologize for my manners." Said Gabrielle, seeming a bit embarrassed as she flushed slightly as she saw Harry and Neville scanning the others. Harry thought she looked rather cute while she was embarrassed. 'Where did that come from?' He questioned himself as she spoke again, regaining her usual smooth and confident persona. "Zis is Sofia Parcher," she indicated the flirtatious brunette who mock bowed to the two boys. "Josephine Dubois" she indicated the brown eyed blonde who smiled warmly to them, "and Sophie Sinclair." The smaller blonde girl just nodded shyly at the pair of them. "Ladies zis is 'arry Potter and…?"

"Neville Longbottom," said Neville, his posture straightening, "Heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Longbottom. But I really don't mind the formalities."

Gabrielle raised an eyebrow at him as Harry sat there clueless. "I believe our fazers may have known each ozer." She said softly. "I am sorry about what happened to your parents."

Neville's eyes darkened as he looked sad for a moment before answering. "It's ok, and thank you for your apology. Why do you think they may have known one another?"

Harry was impressed Neville managed to stay so composed while talking to Gabrielle, most boys had just crumbled like putty in her palm when they attempted to speak with her. He was very confused though; first about this "heir" business, and now about Neville's parents. That's when he remembered something he had read in old prophets about the Longbottoms. He resolved to look into it later, for he did not want to stir up bad memories for Neville, nor look clueless now.

"My fazer was an Auror deployed in Britain near ze end of the last war." Explained Gabrielle, Harry did not miss the note of pride in her voice as she spoke of her father.

"Is he still an Auror?" Asked Neville, cautiously, knowing the danger of that position all to well.

Gabrielle shook her head. "He retired from the Auror office and is now an ambassador for ze French Ministry of Magic."

Neville looked a bit awed at the high rank of the man.

At this point everyone had grabbed food minus Harry, who simply sat in thought. He usually only ate two meals a day, near starvation at the hands of the Dursley's meant that food did not sit well with him if consumed too frequently. He usually ate breakfast and not lunch, though he had slept later then usual and it seemed to have thrown his body for a loop.

"Are you not eating breakfast?" Asked Gabrielle.

Harry just shook his head. "I am not that hungry to tell the truth, I just wanted to do something, and wait for the post."

By this point many more people had entered the Great Hall, and just as Harry spotted a mane of bushy brown hair making it's way towards them, the owl's made themselves known as they flocked into the hall in hundreds, startling two of the girl's at the table. Gabrielle and Josephine looked nonplused, if a bit interested.

As expected, a large tawny owl landed in front of Harry and deposited a copy of The Daily Prophet onto the table in front of him as Harry handed over several bronze knuts.

It had been during the heights of the Sirius Black fiasco that Harry had decided that paying attention to the prophet would be an idea that could benefit him, at the time he had thought it could even mean life or death.

He quickly fought down the all to familiar lump in his throat at the thought of Sirius and glanced down at the front page.

The Return and Expansion of The Triwizard Tournament!

By Rita Skeeter

Last night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the illustrious European schools of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrived at Hogwarts.

For a month now we knew this was planned, but had no idea why it was planned. Well, avid readers, we now have our answers!

At the welcome feast in the honour of the visitors last night, Hogwarts Headmaster, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, Albus Dumbledore, confirmed that the Triwizard Tournament would be making its return this year, and it would be hosted at Hogwarts.

For those who are unaware, The Triwizard Tournament is a tournament where three champions will be chosen, one from each of the schools. (Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang) Each champion will compete in three tasks, each task is to be graded by a panel of judges, usually consisting of the three headmasters/headmistresses, though this year will also consist of Ludo Bagman, (Head of The Department of Magical Games and Sports) and Barty Crouch Sr. (Head of The Department of International Magical Cooperation)

Though the reactions of the public are obviously not out yet, expect controversy and a fair bit of backlash. The Triwizard Tournament has been outlawed for two centuries due to its disturbingly high death count. At the last instalment of the Tournament, not one of the three champions survived to claim the prize.

So the question is, is our ministry putting our children at risk simply for the entertainment of the masses?

That is not all however, as this year Dumbledore announced that their would also be similar inter school tournaments in academics, duelling, and Quidditch.

Each of the school teams were announced last night (for full details see page 6) but the main takeaway comes from young Harry Potter.

Harry Potter, as everyone knows is the Boy-Who-Lived, and vanquisher of the Dark Lord You-Know-Who. He is in his fourth year at Hogwarts, and according to ministry files only turned fourteen in July.

Despite his young age however, Harry Potter managed to not only find himself chosen over older, more experienced, and possibly more gifted students, as he found himself on both the duelling and Quidditch teams for Hogwarts. But he also found himself named Quidditch captain despite being the youngest player on the team, and by far the least experienced, having never captained before.

So, is Harry Potter truly that good? Is Albus Dumbledore playing favourites at the potential cost of his own school's honour? Or has young Harry Potter found a way to cheat the system?

Hermione looked horrified at the article, having read her own copy at top speed and actually gasped when reading the bit about Harry. Gabrielle, who had read the article over Harry's shoulder, fired off a string of French that made the other girl's either squeal, or look affronted as she looked at Harry, appearing to be furious.

Hermione beat her to it.

"How can she do that? That's slander, she knows nothing about you, and if she was being fair she could have at least mentioned how you were the youngest seeker in a century and have never lost a game!"

This drew slightly awed looks from Sophie, Josephine, and Sofia, while Gabrielle still looked affronted.

"She could be charged for zis." She muttered angrily. "'ow dare zat woman? On what grounds…"

"You seem to be taking it well." Noted Neville, as he examined Harry.

Harry simply shrugged. "Nothing new." He commented, reaching for a glass of water.

"WHAT?" Exclaimed Gabrielle, her blue eyes snapping to Harry, seeming to glow with fury. "What do you mean nossing new? Zis is 'orrible! This is slander as your friend said, Harry. Zis is wrong!"

Harry actually chuckled at that, drawing shocked looks from the girl's, minus Hermione who simply looked a bit sad, and Gabrielle who looked no different.

"This is nothing." Explained Harry. "I've gone through far worse," he looked at Hermione and Neville. "Second year." He elaborated for their benefit as they both paled at the mention of the whole "Heir of Slytherin" fiasco.

"What do you mean this is nozing?" Asked Gabrielle.

He shrugged. "She didn't really say anything, she didn't even outright accuse me of anything. To be honest, I'll take it."

Gabrielle looked horrified at this. "But she insinuated you did not dezerve your captaincy."

He shrugged. "She's probably right." He said calmly.

"What?" Asked, all the table at once, minus Hermione who just sighed and looked exasperatingly at Harry.

"But you're brilliant at Quidditch." Piped up Neville. "Best in the school, no-one else is even close."

"But I've never captained." Harry commented. "It probably should have been Roger Davies. He's captained Ravenclaw for the last two seasons, and to be honest, I don't really know what I'm doing."

"Because that's always stopped you." Muttered Hermione sarcastically, causing Harry to smirk and shake his head.

"This is different." He said. "I'm not saying I don't want to be captain, and I'm not saying I'm not going to try my best to learn and be good at it, but I'm just saying if I was picking the captaincy, I wouldn't have even considered me."

"Harry." said Neville cautiously.

"Yes Neville?" Asked Harry, curious at the boy's tone.

"No offence, you're a genius, and no offence, Hermione, but probably the best in the year at a lot of the magic, but you really are thick sometimes."

This just caused Harry and Hermione to laugh while the French girls looked on in bemusement.

This lead the English natives to explain the saying, clearing the air a bit.

"So, what are all of your classes?" Gabrielle asked the three of them, though she still looked a bit affronted. Hermione perked up at once.

"Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Defense Against The Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions and Transfiguration." She said all of this in one breath, drawing slightly dazed looks from the girls, minus Gabrielle and Sophie, who seemed to shoot Gabrielle a smile which made her mock glare at the girl.

"And ze two of you?" Asked Sofia before anyone else could speak.

"All the same except no Arithmancy and Runes, but I also have divination." Said Neville.

"The same as Hermione." Said Harry as they smiled at one another. "Oh yeah, sorry guys, we kind of got a bit distracted, everyone this is Hermione Granger; Hermione, this is Gabrielle, Sophie, Sofia, and Josephine." He sounded a bit uncertain, worried he may mess up one of the names, but the girls all nodded, and he smiled.

"A pleasure to meet you, Hermione." Said Gabrielle. "So what is your favourite subject?"

Hermione looked stumped for a few seconds, just when Harry thought she would say something ridiculous like "all of them" she finally seemed to decide.

"Either Arithmancy, Runes, or Charms."

"All subjects you beat me in?" Noted Harry teasingly, causing Hermione to blush. "What's the matter Hermione? What's wrong with Defense, Transfiguration and Potions?"

"Oh stop it!" Exclaimed Hermione, as Neville and the girls laughed. "For one thing, we're even in charms, you actually beat me last year, but I beat you the years before. And you beating me has nothing to do with…"

"Hermione, relax." said Harry through his laughter at the girl's reaction. "I was only joking, you destroy me in Runes and Arithmancy, hence the joke."

The girl just smiled embarrassedly back at him. "Sorry, and you could probably beat me if you put in more effort, and what about potions? You may be good at it, and like the branch of magic, but we both know you'd rather throw yourself off of the astronomy tower than go to every class."

Harry grimaced at that.

"Touché." He commented, doing a mock cheers with his glass of water, causing Neville to snicker after paling at the mention of potions.

"Why do you not like potionz if you are good at zem?" Asked Sophie, speaking for the first time.

Harry sipped his glass and pretended to be in deep thought. "Because the professor is a greasy git who spends more time attacking me then he does washing his hair."

At this, Neville spat pumpkin juice everywhere as he burst into a fit of simultaneous laughter and coughing. Hermione looked mortified but sniggered despite herself and had to suppress a giggle. Sophie and Sofia did giggle, while Gabrielle suppressed a smile behind her hand, and Josephine actually did look a bit mortified.

"I beg your pardon? She asked.

Harry let everyone recover before speaking. "The potions master" he drew air quotes around Snape's official title "has hated me since the first day he met me, all because of a grudge he had with my father. He takes every opportunity to verbally attack me and my friends while he praises anyone in his own house, Slytherin, even if they're burning holes through their cauldrons. And no, before you ask, the hair jokes were not out of nowhere, he seriously does need a shower."

At this, Neville laughed again, and Hermione just shook her head disapprovingly, though she too was smiling despite herself.

"Anyways," said Hermione, redirecting the conversation back on track. "My favourites are Runes, Arithmancy and Charms."

At that, Gabrielle's eyes lit up.

"Why do I have a feeling I am about to become very lost very fast?" Asked Neville.

"For what it's worth, I'm with you Neville." Said Harry, seeing that Neville was about to object he stopped him. "Yeah yeah, I know I'm good at charms, but the theories she can spout off sometimes…" he just shook his head.

"You probably are about to be lost," commented Sofia, "Gabrielle is a genius wis charmz."

"You enjoy them then?" Asked Hermione.

"They are my favourite subject, though I do enjoy Tranzfiguration quite a bit, as well as Arismancy."

At that moment, Fred and George entered the hall and seemed to seek out Harry, when they saw him they eagerly skipped down and took seats near them.

As Hermione and Gabrielle seemed lost in their own conversation, the twins looked at Harry.

"Oh, Master Potioneer!" They corrused in unison, seemingly earning the attention of the rest of the table.

Harry just raised an eyebrow, not wanting to play too far into their antics.

"Could we ask a favour?"

"Just one teeny, tiny favour?"

"Please?"

"Just this once?"

What made this all worse is that they asked their questions in the same back to back manner of speaking they were so infamous for, which seemed to very much amuse the French girls, whom the twins winked at.

"What is it?" Asked Harry suspiciously.

The twins looked around the table at all of the gathered faces conspiratorially. "Can you all keep a secret?" They asked as one.

The girls exchanged looks before nodding, Gabrielle speaking up with a smile. "I imagine we will get far more amuzement out of zis if we just agree, so sure."

The twins gave elaborate bows to the girls before turning back to Harry.

"We need an ageing potion." They exclaimed in unison.

"Come again?" Asked Harry.

"An ageing potion? You know, a potion to make us older?"

Harry waved them off. "I know what an ageing potion is," he said exasperatedly. "But why do you need it?"

They looked at each other, and seemed to have a silent argument over whether or not they would share their information before they spoke.

"To get across the age line."

The reactions at the table varied from outrage, to skepticism, to shock to amusement.

Harry just rolled his eyes. "You do realize that won't work right?"

"On what grounds do you make such an outrageous claim?"

Harry just sighed, clearly they weren't going to make this easy. To his pleasant surprise though he didn't have to answer, as Gabrielle spoke up.

"I admit I am awful at potions and know nossing about ze ageing potion. But I am quite familiar wis wardz, and an age line falls under that category."

The twins nodded for her to continue so she did, Harry could not help but compare her to Hermione, the way she seemed to lean forward, and draw everyone into her as she lectured.

"An age line, like any ward, detects a person and evaluates zem based on their magical core." She looked at Harry questioningly. "'ave you learned about magical cores yet?"

He shook his head. "I have a very basic understanding of them, it's pretty much the source of magic right?"

"Correct." Affirmed Gabrielle. "But it is far more complex than zat. It 'as countless applications but I will not go off topic. It can be uzed to detect someone's age among plenty of ozer ssings, and zat's 'ow ze line will be evaluating everyone." She looked at Harry again, this time seeming unsure of herself. "I really am awful at potions, so please correct me if I am wrong, but I am guessing zat ze ageing potion would not 'ave ze ability to change your magical core, since I believe zat is impossible."

Harry just shook his head. "I honestly don't know enough about cores to be positive, but from what I know it only changes your physical characteristics, both inside and out."

She nodded. "From what I know, it is not possible to change one's magical core or signature, the core is responzible for the signature." She added that last bit as an afterthought. It was clear that she was the only one who knew much on the subject, as even Hermione was listening with wrapped attention. Harry half expected her to start taking notes. "A magical core can be masked, but it is unbelievably difficult. Certain dark spells or rituals can do it, and I imagine zere are ozer ways, but I do not know zem."

"Well." Spoke George. "You both admitted you're not POSITIVE that it doesn't work."

"I'm about 99% sure." Said Harry.

"We'll take the chance!" They corrused as one.

Harry just sighed. "Forget it."

"What?" They asked as one, sounding shocked and outraged. Harry had never denied them anything.

"I said forget it," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "Why would I make you a potion that isn't gonna work anyway, besides, from what I've seen it's bloody difficult to make."

"But you could do it?"

"Maybe."

"Well, you underplay everything about yourself so that's a yes." Said Fred, drawing a snicker from Neville, and a nod from Hermione, though Harry didn't see the latter.

"Did you miss the part where I said I wouldn't do it?"

"We'll pay you!"

"Keep your money."

"A lot."

"I don't need money, I have plenty."

"What do you want?" They asked as one.

"Nothing."

"We'll owe you three favours." They said as one.

"Pranks, backup, distractions, stolen answer keys, anything." Said Fred.

"Well, anything legal." Specified George.

Harry hesitated. He didn't want to do it, he knew it wouldn't work but this was a really hard deal to turn down.

"Four favours?" He asked, sounding resigned.

"Deal!" The twins exclaimed, each shaking hands with Harry as Sofia, Sophie, and Neville laughed, while Hermione and Josephine looked mildly disapproving while Gabrielle just shook her head, though she was noticeably smiling at their antics.

"You're getting me the ingredients though." Demanded Harry. "And that doesn't count as a favour."

"Yes sir!" Said the twins.

"Harry?" Asked George, lowering his voice to a mock whisper.

"We should go." Said Fred.

"We have important, private, top secret business to discuss." Confirmed George.

"You know, plan 7." They both said in unison.

At this, Harry actually sat up and smirked evilly, which the rest of the table didn't miss.

"Harry?" Asked Hermione warningly, what are you planning?"

"Sorry, Hermione!" Exclaimed Fred. "I am afraid time is scarce, we really must be going, let's go, Harry."

Harry got to his feet and smiled at his friends and the French girls before following the twins at a brisk pace.

"Do I even want to know?" Asked Josephine.

"I doubt it." Said Hermione, watching their backs suspiciously as they retreated. "The twins are notorious for their pranks, and Harry seems to have hopped on their bandwagon. With their creativity and Harry's ability…" she actually shuddered at the thought.

"You seem to ssink he is quite talented." Observed Gabrielle.

Hermione sighed. "Harry has a very strong habit of downplaying his accomplishments and capabilities. I don't know why, or where it came from. It's just always been there. But yes, he is very talented, he's the best in our year at wand based magic, and his theory is very good as well, especially in defense. He might be the best in the school at it."

"'e is on ze duelling team right?" Asked the shy girl, Sophie.

Hermione nodded. "He beat everyone in tryouts." She confirmed.

"Impressive." Noted Sofia, "especially for a fours year."

"You'd never know it zough." Noted Gabrielle quietly as her pale blue eyes remained focused on the spot from which the three boys had exited the hall. Thinking back to earlier Gabrielle tried Hermione, as she seemed a very open person. "Why was 'e not upset by ze paper earlier? I would 'ave been furious if it waz me."

Hermione just shrugged. "That's just Harry, things like that don't bother him at this point."

"I bet if that was directed at one of his friends he would go ballistic though." Commented Neville.

Hermione nodded. "He'd probably hunt down the reporter himself." She affirmed.

'Selfless indeed.' Thought Gabrielle, mentally putting a check beside that suspicion of hers, as well as the one regarding modesty.

"What did 'e mean about it being nossing? When 'e implied 'e 'ad gone through worsse."

Suddenly Hermione looked sad once more, but also defiant. "I'm sorry, Gabrielle, I don't mean to be rude, but that's really not my business to tell."

Gabrielle nodded approvingly at the girl despite her annoyance. 'At least he has a good friend in her.' She thought.

In her position, Gabrielle suspected that most girls would be both jealous and cautious of Hermione but she wasn't.

She could sense Harry's emotions, it seemed even easier now that she knew who to focus on, and she was not getting that vibe. It was almost similar to how she felt about Fleur.

"Well," she said, snapping herself out of her thoughts and smiling at the younger girl. "What is it you enjoy so much about Charms?"

…..

"All done!" Exclaimed the three boys in unison. Rolling up the parchment they had spread across the desk in the empty classroom.

"This is going to be incredible." Said Fred.

"Best prank in years!" Agreed George.

Harry just smiled. "Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, it isn't going to be easy to pull off, I'm actually not even sure if we can do it."

"We've got to!" Exclaimed Fred.

"It would be a prank worthy of the Marauders." Noted George.

Harry smiled a bit sadly. "I imagine they would get an extra kick out of it."

"What makes you think that Harrikins?" Asked Fred.

Harry smiled. "Because I met three of them last year, and the fourth is my father."

"WHAT!"

…..

The conversation that followed Harry's proclamation would forever be one of Harry's all time favourite memories. As he left the empty classroom alone, leaving two dumbstruck Weasley's behind him, he could not help but think he may have a new memory for his Patronus.

He was so focused on his thoughts that he nearly walked straight into a red haired Hufflepuff.

"Sorry." Said Harry as he sidestepped her at the last second.

"That's ok." Said the girl, quickly turning to pursue him. "Wait, I have something for you."

At that Harry turned, curiously to the girl.

"Bones, right?" He asked, before realizing how rude that may have sounded. "Sorry, I just can't seem to recall your first name." He added apologetically.

She just smiled at him. "Really, Potter, we've been in classes for three years and you still don't know my name?" She teased. Harry blushed and she giggled. "It's ok, Harry… may I call you Harry?" Upon receiving a nod she continued. "We've never really spoken, I'm Susan Bones, you may have heard of my aunt…"

"Amelia Bones." Said Harry, quickly connecting the dots as he realized she had a niece at Hogwarts. "Head of the DMLE, right?"

"Yep." Said Susan with a smile. "Anyways, I was told to give this to you." She handed Harry a scroll of parchment before they went their separate ways.

While walking Harry unscrolled the parchment and read a familiar looking scroll.

Good afternoon,

If you are available tonight at 8:00 pm, and still wish to continue with our previous arrangement, then I see that as an opportune time for our first lesson.

I will be waiting in the room we last discussed. Think of a place to train, and if you plan on attending dress accordingly, we will be working on combat based magic.

Please send me an owl if you can not make it, there is no need to do so if you will be present.

I hope to see you soon,

Professor Dumbledore.

…..

Authors Endnote:

Yes yes, I know, I said the lesson with Dumbledore would be in this chapter. The truth is, this chapter (with the lesson and some other stuff I planned on being present) ended up being over double the length I had expected. So, I broke it up into two chapters, instead of posting one 10k+ word chapter.

I hope this is alright with everyone. I may post two chapters this week since I've been slacking a bit with this story and since I already have one mostly written. Don't hold me to that though, as I also want to work on other stories as well.

Either way, we will see.

Next chapter, we find out what these lessons with Dumbledore will be like, as well as finding out how efficient a young Veela can be when given ample motivation.

With all of that being sad, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and I wish you all a very happy Easter!


	13. Shields and Spirits

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter. It all belongs to J.K Rowling people, and though it may be disappointing to admit, it will likely always remain that way.

Authors Note: 1

I apologize for the delay on this chapter. This was one of the hardest chapters I've ever written, quite frankly, I'm still not entirely pleased with it, but it will do. I wish I could promise weekly uploads for this story, but quite frankly, out of all of the stories I'm writing, it's by far the hardest, and I will not sacrifice quality for quantity.

Authors Note 2:

Thank you to James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story.

Review Answers

Tyler'sPrincess: I am glad you enjoyed the last chapter my friend, and if what you said is true, you should enjoy this one as well.

ThelittleKing: I wouldn't say "vs Harry" but yes, he will certainly take a more active roll in this series. As for your second point… that will probably be a more common theme, as the way I see it, Hermione did this in cannon when there was far less to praise, and Ron… I'm kind of playing around with his character to be honest.

"Speech"

'Internal Dialogue'

 _French_

 **Parseltongue**

 _ **Memories**_

 **Chapter 13: Shields and Spirits.**

It had been early afternoon by the time Harry had received the note from Dumbledore. He had spent quite a long time in the room with the twins.

When he finally entered the common room he was greeted by the sight of a thoroughly annoyed looking Ron.

"And where the bloody hell have you been all day?" He demanded, sounding annoyed.

"A few places." Answered Harry cryptically.

"And what The ruddy hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I ate breakfast while you were asleep and spent the rest of the day with your brothers."

"My condolences." Said Ron with a smirk, seemingly comforted by the confirmation he had not been ditched.

…..

As the two boys killed time playing chess and exploding snap in the Gryffindor tower, a young, tall blonde girl made her way around the grounds lost in thought at what she had learned. Well, more like what she had confirmed.

Harry Potter had clearly not had an easy life as she had suspected. And if he thought that slander was "nothing" she was beginning to question how difficult that life had been.

But how could she find out?

She suspected that he may tell her eventually, but she got the feeling that even his friends did not know everything, and they had known him for several years at least. She simply shook her head, trying to come up with a plan.

Even if they did not work out together, she wanted to help him. She saw it as her duty. Her mate needed her, and she would do everything she could to help him. Anything else was simply gravy.

As she walked, she pondered her limited memories with Harry, in particular, since arriving at the ancient castle. She froze in midstep, a dumbstruck look on her face. She did have a way of learning more about Harry Potter, or at least she hoped she did.

It may take patience, but she was sure that, if her suspicions were correct, she could learn quite a lot quite quickly.

…..

It was five minutes to eight when Harry began his pacing back and forward in front of what seemed to be a blank stretch of wall on the seventh floor.

After the third time however, anyone of that belief would have been shocked to see the door that had seemingly appeared out of thin air.

Harry hesitated, he would knock but he was unsure if Dumbledore would even hear it. Tentatively, he knocked anyway, and was partially surprised when he heard the headmaster's voice call out.

"Enter."

Harry pushed open the door and stepped inside. He was dressed in his Gryffindor Quidditch robes, seeing as they were the closest thing he had to athletic clothing.

Dumbledore on the other hand, was dressed as eccentrically as ever in robes of a deep red, trimmed in gold.

"Ah, Harry, good, I was hopeful you would come but one can never be sure."

Two chairs appeared out of thin air, as did a desk. Harry was impressed at the ease in which Dumbledore commanded the room.

Harry took the seat across from Dumbledore and spoke.

"You said we're going to cover combat magic tonight sir?"

"Oh yes." Said Dumbledore cheerfully. "Tonight we begin what I hope to be the long road to our ultimate victory over Lord Voldemort, though I warn you, Harry, I suspect it to be a very long and potentially painful road."

Harry nodded.

"I have not completely decided all that I wish to teach you." Admitted Dumbledore. "Though, the adequate ability to defend yourself seems like a rather good start does it not?"

Harry nodded, thinking of how the blasting curse sent by Nott had blasted through his Protego shield.

"Tonight Harry, we will cover four shields. I do not expect you to be a master of all four by the end of the night. I would be very pleased with the ability to cast three of the four, even if it can not be done on a consistent basis. Though I will expect progress to be made between this session and our next, and I will most certainly check. Does this sound acceptable?"

Harry nodded for the third time, fingering his wand, he was rather eager to start.

"In that case," said Dumbledore, as he swept to his feet and gestured for Harry to do the same, vanishing the desk and chairs with a swish of his wand as the teen stood to join him. "Let us begin. Is it safe to presume that you are familiar with, and capable of a passable Protego shield charm?"

"Yes sir." Answered Harry.

"Show me please Harry, if you do not mind."

Harry raised his wand and made to speak but Dumbledore stopped him.

"For spells you already know, I think it would be best if you cast non verbally. When learning new spells, verbal casting will be more than acceptable, but I think it is best if we drill the impulse to cast without speaking. Any edge you can gain, no matter how slim can mean life or death in a true blood duel."

Harry nodded and focused. A second later he felt the invisible shield raise up, evidently Dumbledore did as well as he began casting several charms.

They did not impact Harry's shield, and he figured they were diagnostic spells. He then nodded, seeming satisfied and took aim with his wand, sending a jet of red light that Harry thought was a stunner at his shield, though it was hard to tell because it was so fast it was a blur.

The spell impacted hard against Harry's shield, and it visibly flared but did not fall.

Dumbledore nodded approvingly. "Very well, I think you have a firm handle on the Protego shield. Now, let us move on to the more advanced variants, if you would drop the shield." Harry did so with a flick of his wand and Dumbledore continued. "The Protego shield should be your go to shield in a situation where you expect to face jinxes and hexes, and even very minor curses since it is the least draining of the possible shields. However, in a true fight against a death eater or in the worst case scenario, Lord Voldemort himself, I fear this rudimentary shield will not be of much use to you."

"It is far from the only shield however. I will not be showing you every shield today. However, I hope to cover three improved shields of varying power and difficulty. Those being Protego Maxima, Aegis Sphaera, and Aegis Magnum."

"The first of these, Protego Maxima, is essentially just a stronger version of the Protego shield. It will stop the more powerful blasting curses like bombarda and reducto and will hold up well against spell chains. It will suffer though against the dark arts, and a powerful enough wizard can still breach it with a bombarda maxima, though it would not damage you as much as it would break the shield.

"The second, Aegis Sphaera, is a little bit different, and is actually a spell of my own creation," Harry did not miss the increase in the old man's ever present twinkle. "It is essentially Protego Maxima, however, instead of a barrier being conjured in front of you, the shield will take the form of a sphere like dome around you. Covering you from all sides."

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, if this exists, doesn't that make Protego Maxima useless?"

"That would be ideal yes, but it does not work as well in execution. You see, the shield covers a larger area, and therefore takes more magic to both cast and maintain. Similarly to how Protego Maxima will take more energy then Protego due to the increased power required."

Harry nodded, having understood, especially after going through magical exhaustion so many nights after training. It was one of the most crippling things imaginable, rendering walking near impossible, let alone fighting.

"The final spell I will show you tonight is Aegis Magnum. It is the second most powerful shield spell in the world, unless I have a gap in my knowledge, which between the two of us, is something that I view as an improbability. Back on track however, this spell will form a barrier between you and your opponent. This will block almost any curse, barring the unforgivables and a few others which I will show you later on, if for no other reason then so you can identify them. I do not expect you to be able to cast this shield tonight, and I would be happy if you managed it, even partially by the next lesson. Now shall we begin?"

…..

By the end of the lesson, Harry was exhausted. Not quite at the point of magical exhaustion, but he knew he was not far off.

Dumbledore had been very impressed with him. By the end of the lesson, Harry could cast Protego Maxima nearly everytime if casting verbally, and cast it to what he estimated to be a 20% success rate non verbally, even if it was not quite as strong as his verbal form of the shield. Dumbledore said that would fix itself quickly enough with practice.

His Aegis Sphaera was also a pleasant surprise. He could cast it successfully a bit less than half the time, even if he had still not managed it non verbally.

He had not yet been able to cast Aegis Magnum, the spell Dumbledore had called the "mage shield" but Dumbledore was optimistic he would pull it off in one of his upcoming practices.

All in all, it was an exhausted, yet content Harry Potter that groggily made his way back to Gryffindor tower. So groggy in fact, that under his invisibility cloak he walked right past a hallway that was home to a discussion that centered solely around him.

…..

Gabrielle had been wandering the halls of Hogwarts for hours and was sure she would miss curfew. Despite this, she was determined. If she had to miss curfew for one night… well, what was the worst Madame Maxime would do to her perfect, model student.

About fifteen minutes later, Gabrielle was starting to question that thought when finally, she saw a pearly shape gliding in a corridor.

Not wanting to disturb the castle by screaming, Gabrielle fired off a flare in the direction of the apparition. Instantly, the luminescent figure paused it's path and slowly turned around to face the young Veela approaching. As it turned, Gabrielle recognized the face of the very ghost she had been looking for all these hours.

"Ah yes, Ms… Delacour I believe?" Asked Nearly Headless Nick as he bowed to the girl, making his barely attached head wobble precariously.

"Yes sir." Said Gabrielle politely, curtseying in return to the ghosts bow.

"Please, Nick will serve just as well Ms. Delacour." Said the apparition with a kind smile. "Now, I have been expecting you."

"'ave you?" Asked Gabrielle, genuinely taken aback by the proclamation.

Nearly Headless Nick chuckled. "Oh yes, you see, being dead, while certainly unfortunate does have its perks. For example Ms. Delacour, I can see magical anomalies that only exist in the metaphysical plain, something that is normally near impossible for witches and wizards, but not spirits, as it is, in a sense, that very plain in which we exist."

Gabrielle nodded, accurately assuming that Nick meant that he could see the bond between herself and Harry.

"You must know why I am 'ere zen?" Asked Gabrielle, hoping that the ghost would simply spill everything he knew.

The ghost nodded solemnly. "Indeed I do, Ms. Delacour. I am afraid you will find yourself disappointed though."

"Why would I find myself disappointed?" Asked Gabrielle as her heart sank.

"I know you wish to question me on Harry Potter. The problem is, Ms. Delacour, that I really can't tell you much. Oh, I could tell you some things, certainly, but others remain a mystery to me. You see, Harry Potter has been an enigma since he arrived at Hogwarts. Astonishing things always seem to happen around him, of that there can be no doubt. Despite that however, the actual things themselves remain a great mystery to the vast majority of the castle, living and dead alike."

"Well, can you at least tell me what you meant yesterday?" Asked Gabrielle, hoping to at least wheedle something out of the Gryffindor ghost.

Nick seemed to consider her for a moment, scratching his chin as he hovered in the air before finally, he spoke. "I meant exactly what I said, Ms. Delacour. Harry Potter is going to drown himself in his own guilt and anger over something he had no control over."

Gabrielle took that in, she had suspected something of the sort, though it was nice… well, nice wasn't really the right word. It was… illuminating to have her thoughts confirmed.

"What is 'e so guilty about?" Asked Gabrielle.

"Alas," said the ghost, looking genuinely regretful for the first time in the conversation, "it is not my story to tell. I do wish to tell you, I really do, but I am afraid it would be a rather harsh betrayal of young Harry's trust, something I value quite deeply. I will say this however, there are… rumours of what happened. I think you will find, that though none of them are completely accurate, and some are closer to the truth than others, you will, if nothing else, be able to come up with the answer to that question simply by examining the Hogwarts rumour mill, as well as perhaps some copies of last year's Daily Prophets."

Gabrielle nodded, mentally noting the words of the spirit. "And why does 'arry think it was 'is fault?"

Nick just shook his head. "On this front I can only guess, and even then, I can only share part of my suspicions, as some of them, if true, would be very personal information to reveal, and information that if true, Harry Potter has tried quite hard to conceal. Nevertheless, I believe that Harry believes himself guilty in part, not only because in his mind, he could have stopped it, but also because in many ways, he believes he was the cause of it. He believes that had he not been here, the event in question would not have taken place."

"And would it 'ave?" Asked Gabrielle.

Nick looked thoughtful. "I believe so, though it would have played out differently, I ultimately think it would have come to the same conclusion."

"But 'e disagrees?"

"I think if he allowed himself to think of it subjectively, perhaps he would be more amenable to the idea, but as I said, he is not in a state to do so."

"But 'e seems so… normal."

Nick laughed. "Often times, Ms. Delacour, it is the most normal seeming people who turn out to be the most extraordinary. Again, I am guessing here in part, though I know I am at least partially correct. Harry Potter has had far too much practice at bottling up his emotions, and, if truth be told, I do not think he knows any other way of handling emotionally stressful situations. This one though is more stressful than any before, and if he continues to do this, he will break. It is inevitable."

"Does zat 'ave anything to do with why 'e 'ad no reaction to the Daily Prophet today?"

Nick nodded. "It has everything to do with it. In fact, I think they are so closely related, you could categorize them as the same issue."

"What did 'e mean by 'is second year?"

Nick just sighed. "I suppose it would not hurt to at least tell you this, since you could find it out verbatim from any student, so holding my tongue would change nothing in the end. I do not know all the facts, nor does anyone in the castle minus Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. But the gist of it is this." He paused for a long moment. "Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"

Gabrielle was thrown off by the question, but she thought for a moment, mentally skimming through Hogwarts A History, a book she had read in preparation for this journey.

"It was ze center of a legend involving Salazar Slysserin." She said slowly and without much confidence. Nick nodded encouragingly so she continued with a bit more confidence in her memory. "Slysserin did not want muggleborns to attend 'ogwarts, a sentiment which Gryffindor, and I believe at least 'ufflepuff strongly disagreed with." Nick nodded again, so she pressed on. "Ze argument got so intense, Slysserin was forced to leave 'ogwarts. When 'e did though, 'e left behind a chamber which 'oused a monster designed to kill all the muggle borns in 'ogwarts." She then looked at the ghost. "'ow did I do?"

"Remarkably well, all things considered." Praised the ghost, clapping as he did so. "You are missing one crucial detail though, the same legend also states that only Salazar Slytherin's true heir could open the chamber and release the horror within."

Gabrielle nodded, remembering that bit of the passage once the ghost had jogged her memory.

"Well, the chamber was apparently opened in 1943. There were several students petrified, all of muggle lineage, one even died." This proclamation made Gabrielle gasp softly. "The perpetrator was believed to be Rubeus Hagrid, our groundskeeper. Though anyone with a brain would know that if he was responsible, it had nothing to do with the famed chamber, as there is no way Slytherin's heir would be a half giant, I am sorry, I do not discriminate against non-humans" he said, bowing in acknowledgement to Gabrielle's Veela heritage. "But there is just no way it would happen."

Gabrielle smiled. "I understand, please continue."

"Well, two years ago, the same type of things began to happen again. Midway through the year while everyone was trying to figure out who the heir was, Harry Potter accidentally revealed a rather obscure talent, one that in the eyes of many served as indisputable evidence to prove him guilty."

"What was it?" Asked Gabrielle, drawing a blank.

"Parseltongue." Answered Nick flatly, causing Gabrielle to gasp in wonderment. "I see that you know the significance, that trait is supposedly passed down only through the Slytherin bloodline. Either way, for months it was believed by many that Harry Potter was the heir of Slytherin, and he was emotionally attacked quite harshly on all fronts, as well as hexed in the back on multiple occasions." Gabrielle winced at that. Unperturbed, Nick pressed on. "I was actually petrified myself, so the rest is second hand but here it goes. The story goes that Hermione Granger, one of Harry Potter's best friends, had been found petrified." Gabrielle softly gasped yet again, recognizing the name with horror as the bushy haired girl she had met earlier that same day. "Naturally this cleared Mr. Potter's name, as no one was delusional enough to believe he would petrify one of his two best friends."

Gabrielle nodded and waited for him to go on but he didn't. "Well ssank you for telling me, but if you don't mind what 'appened about ze chamber? You 'ave me interested now."

Nick smiled. "On that, I do not know. The extent of my knowledge is that Harry Potter's best friend's sister was brought down to the chamber by the heir of Slytherin, or so a message supposedly written by the heir said. Anyway, later that day, she was returned, it was announced the heir had been caught, and Harry Potter received 300 house points as well as an award for special services to the school."

"So 'e stopped it all?" Gabrielle wondered aloud, no small amount of awe present in her voice.

Nick just shrugged, causing his head to wobble once more. "On that, I have no idea. He is certainly courageous enough to try, but to be frank, I am not sure if a second year would have the required skill set. I admit though, the evidence certainly indicated the contrary."

"So 'e's what… desensitised to slander because of this?"

Nick shrugged. "I believe it is only a factor, Ms. Delacour, not the entire puzzle, but I can not tell you anymore."

Gabrielle sighed but nodded, thankful for what she had found out at least. "And you ssink I can 'elp him?" Asked Gabrielle.

Nick's face was impassive. "I do not know. I believe that if you fail, Harry Potter may be beyond the point of no return."

…..

 **Authors Endnote:**

 **Sorry for the delay on this chapter. I've had a very busy few weeks, and to be honest, this chapter fought back with a vengeance, it just did not want to be written.**

 **I am very happy with the Harry/Dumbledore scene, but to be honest, I'm still a bit unhappy with the rest of it and I may come back and rework it somewhere down the line, as, to be honest, I seriously considered calling this chapter investigations and info dumps.**

 **Despite that, I hope you all enjoyed it, I am at least proud of the lesson scene so there's that.**

 **So, what will our young Veela friend do with the information she has been given? What will this mean for Harry Potter? Along with the advanced help of the greatest wizard alive?**

 **Keep reading to find out!**

 **Next chapter: Students get quite the surprise when they learn of magic beyond unthinkable, magic that is even considered…. unforgivable.**


	14. Unforgettable and Unforgivable

**Disclaimer: I don't own a thing; especially not HP. It all belongs to J.K Rowling.**

 **Authors Note 1:**

 **Sorry for the wait. As I've said, I'd love to post this weekly, but until maybe the summer, it's just not happening. On top of that, I've been extremely sick this week, and am still a bit under the weather, but I definitely needed to get this written.**

 **On an additional note, I know the timeline for Moody showing unforgivables is wrong. I did that on purpose, as I have already said, and you will soon see why.**

 **There will be one other thing I will definitely take flack for in this chapter, simply because it wouldn't happen in canon, and I admit, that is probably true, but as I will explain at the end of the chapter, it does make sense. So hold your fire.**

 **Aside from that, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and sorry for the long AN.**

 **Authors Note 2:**

 **Just a quick one here. If you guys want more of this pairing but have read all the stories that always get recommended,** **Hope** **by Jeconais,** **Vitam Paramus** **by TheEndless7 etc. Then check out** **A New Beginning** **by Harmonization.**

 **It's a new story and is very good. It's not high on action, so it does have that draw back, but the character building is extremely well done, and the plot is well thought out, and well executed.**

 **One of my favourite stories going right now, and as a lover of this pairing, I know it's hard to find, so I figured I'd give you guys another one to read, and shout out a story that is NOWHERE NEAR as popular as it should be.**

 **Authors Note 3:**

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story.**

 **Review Answers**

 **LifeIsAGreatAdventure: I won't go too deep into this, as we have already chatted in a PM, but here we go. I don't see how Harry is overpowered in this story. He beat death eaters in fifth year, and outperformed the other champions in the maze in fourth year. Taking that into account, I don't see how it is unreasonable for him to beat older students, especially when in this universe, he actually chose to apply himself.**

 **Budhayes: I am aware of that my friend. You actually answered your own question in the review you left. Scientifically you're right, it wouldn't be possible for Gabrielle and Fleur to be so close in age, but in a world of magic and considering their mother is only partially human, I didn't see any reason that I couldn't change that.**

 **Guest: Yes, I know Dumbledore was a Transfiguration specialist, and trust me, we'll get there. But his primary goal is for Harry to be able to defend himself. What better way to do it then by teaching him how to block incoming attacks more efficiently? It seemed like a good (and very Dumbledore like) place to start.**

 **Liancher: I don't understand how it was too long when all I did in that scene was explain spell theory that is vitally important to this series. To be honest, if you are bothered by scenes of that length, you may as well not read my stories, as I tend to write scenes out to be rather long.**

 **zcnk: That will indeed be interesting; between you and me my friend, you may get to see it more than once:)**

"Speech"

'Internal Dialogue'

 _French_

 **Parseltongue**

 _ **Memories**_

 **Chapter 14: Unforgettable and Unforgivable.**

The first bit of time since the arrival of the new schools passed by without much of an incident.

On Monday morning, the students of Hogwarts went back to their classes as normal, and the students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang did likewise, either being taught from the comfort of their temporary sanctuaries, or in long abandoned classrooms hidden away within the ancient castle.

Monday night did pose a challenge for Harry though, that being his first Quidditch practice as Hogwarts captain; something he was immensely nervous about.

Coming up with a practice schedule had not been easy, especially when taking duelling practice into consideration.

The duelling team met every Monday and Friday, as well as every second Wednesday. Harry also had to plan for lessons with Dumbledore, which the headmaster had said would likely take place mostly, (though not exclusively) on Saturday evenings.

As a result of this, Harry scheduled Quidditch practices on every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday. The latter day not going over well with some, as it was a sort of Hogwarts tradition to lounge around on the last day of each given week.

As a byproduct of all of this, Harry was ready to take some heat for being captain. It was not the reaction of people that worried him, he had been dealing with that for years, and considered himself mostly bullet proof when it came to verbal onslaughts from the masses. No, Harry was nervous about his duty as captain because he still believed he was not the best man for the job.

He would've given it to Davies if he was being honest, but he would do his best, he was simply worried his best would not be good enough, especially considering their northern combatants from Durmstrang were captained by arguably the best seeker alive, Viktor Krum.

So, it was with a considerable amount of nerves that Harry opened the door of the captain's office in the changeroom and entered the main room itself, already dressed in his Hogwarts practice robes, as well as the rest of the team.

When Harry had gone to his locker that day, he had found three sets of robes.

One had been the set meant exclusively for practice. They were grey robes, and like the other two sets, actually resembled a muggle football jersey more than they did the traditional wizarding robes. On the back of his set of robes was the number 7 in white font, with Potter printed over top of said number. On the front of the jersey was the Hogwarts crest.

The second was a multi coloured set of robes. The main portion of the jersey that covered ones back and abdomen was black, though up the sides, covering where ribs and other such parts resided, the jersey was done in blue. The sleeves and shoulders were done in scarlet, with the Hogwarts crest emblazoned upon the black material on the front, dead center. The number and name of each player was done in yellow. Harry's jersey had an extra accessory though. Just above and to the left of the Hogwarts crest, a large, golden, letter C was emblazoned upon the fabric, showcasing the fourth year's status as Quidditch captain for all to see.

The final set of robes was the same as the second, except the black and red were swapped.

Harry looked out at the other fourteen players, six starters, seven reserves, and Ginny, who would serve as an alternate for any position. All of them, like him, were adorned in their grey Hogwarts practice uniform.

For several seconds Harry said nothing, simply observing the others, waiting for their reactions to him.

After it became apparent that they were waiting for him to speak, he did. "Look… I don't know if there are any hard feelings over this," he began, indicating the badge pinned on his practice robes, as they did not have a letter C on the front. "If so, I'm sorry to those who feel like I wasn't the best choice.. It's true I have never captained a team before, and it's true that there is at least one person here who has." he said this last bit with a pointed look at Roger Davies, who was watching him impassively. "I don't know why I was chosen over you, any of you. But I know this, I want to win this tournament more than anything, I want to beat Beauxbatons, and even Durmstrang, Krum included. The only way we can do that is if we are on one page, and if we play as a solid unit. I may not have been everyone's first choice, but I will promise everyone that I will do my absolute best as captain, and I hope Roger will help me to do so." He looked at Roger as he said that last bit, but the boy still did not react.

"You really are thick." Commented Fred with a smile.

"What?" Said Harry, perplexed.

"Harry," said George, rolling his eyes, "I don't think there is one person in this room who has an issue with you being captain." Seemingly to prove his point, George turned and addressed the room at large. "Whoever has an issue with Harry as captain, raise your hand?" Several seconds passed in dead silence, no one so much as moved a muscle. George smiled and turned back to Harry. "We all believe in you mate, we've all seen what you've done on a broom in the last three years, and you may have never captained a team, but you never flew a broom until first year, and look at you now."

The rest of the team muttered their agreement as Harry stood, gobsmacked in front of them. For several long moments, he closed and opened his mouth continuously before finally, his face split into a natural grin. "In that case, let's go win ourselves this tournament!"

…..

The next eight days passed without incident, though it was an exhausting week for Harry; easily one of the most wearing weeks he had gone through since his arrival at Hogwarts three years earlier.

He did not have another lesson with Dumbledore, though he continued to practice the shields he had been taught. His success rate with Aegis Sphaera was definitely improving, along with the power of the shield itself. He could cast it most of the time when doing it verbally, and had even managed it nonverbally a couple of times, even if it was quite a bit weaker than its verbally produced counterpart.

He had essentially mastered Protego Maxima, if his concentration lapsed, he would fail to cast it, but aside from that, he could do it without issue, even non verbally.

The mage shield though… that was still giving him issues, as he had yet to successfully cast it even once.

He had not been discouraged though, he had simply pushed on.

Finally, Tuesday morning the week after the first Quidditch practice came and went, with Harry sitting through both Charms and Potions before eating lunch and tackling an Ancient Runes double before finally, Harry and the rest of the fourth year Gryffindors made their way to Moody's classroom for the final lesson of the day, Defense Against The Dark Arts.

So far this year, Moody had proven to be a more strict taskmaster than any who had come before him, at least in the tenure of Harry and his yearmates. He drilled them constantly on physical techniques, such as dodging and rolling.

Harry had done very well at this, but most of the class had grumbled their way through that first unit, often leaving the class sporting several wounds from failed attempts to dodge curses hurled at them by the crazy ex-auror himself.

The second unit was on curses, and Moody said he would be spending pretty much the rest of the year on curses and countercurses in some regard.

So, expecting another lecture on the appropriate counter curses or spells most commonly used in a fight, it was a great surprise to Harry and the rest of the class when instead of having to wait for Moody, as was usually the case, the door swung open to admit them, revealing Moody was already present in the room.

That wasn't the most surprising thing though, as there were far more desks than Harry or the rest were accustomed to, and about half of them were already occupied. Odder still, they weren't even occupied by Gryffindors, not even Hogwarts students for that matter.

Sitting at each desk was a boy or girl shrouded in the powder blue uniform of Beauxbatons.

"Right," barked out Moody as the fourth year Gryffindors entered the room, "I know you're all confused and I'll explain in a moment, but take your seats."

There was a slight commotion moments later though, as all of the boys minus Harry and Neville all rushed towards one desk. The desk was situated in the front row, directly between two Beauxbatons girls. It was at that moment that Harry practically groaned when he realized the unintentional cause of the commotion was his French friend, Gabrielle.

'What is with people.' He thought as he stared at the near brawl taking place in front of him. 'I mean… she's beautiful and all, but Merlin's beard, get a hold of yourselves.'

Realizing that things were escalating quickly and that Moody was busy with the door, Harry stepped forward, and pointed his wand in the middle of three figures, Ron, Dean, and Seamus, who were in a triangular formation and seemed to be trying to get at each other. 'Please work.' Thought Harry as he focused hard before speaking. "Aegis Sphaera."

Instantly, the wide range shield burst into existence. Normally, the spell materialized as a blue dome, but it could become any shape really. Harry had forced it into an odd sort of shape in order to cut all three boys off from each other.

As the blue shield flashed into existence, every head in the room snapped towards him and he blushed, quickly realizing that he had acted brashly.

"9 points from Gryffindor!" Barked Moody as he made his way back from the door, and towards the commotion. "Three from each of you brainless idiots. And let's see, 15 points TO Gryffindor for Potter's use of an obscure and powerful shield charm, and his creative usage of it. Say… Potter, where did you learn that shield?"

Put on the spot, Harry searched for an answer, as he could hardly sell out Dumbledore. "I asked Professor Flitwick if there were any shield charms that covered a wider area." Harry lied easily. "I figured it would work better than sidestepping one spell just to have to dodge another."

Moody nodded approvingly. "Damn right it does. NOW, Weasley, here," he indicated a seat quite a ways from Gabrielle and the other girl who Harry now recognized as Sophie. "Finnigan here, Thomas here!" He indicated two more seats, far from both Gabrielle and each other. He then looked to Harry. "Can I trust you to keep your saliva in your mouth and not in a puddle of drool in front of you if you sit there?" he indicated the spot between Gabrielle and Sophie, drawing a venomous look from Seamus.

"Yes, Professor." Answered Harry both honestly and respectfully as he took the offered seat, earning a warm smile from Gabrielle.

"Good man." Said Moody before turning to address the class at large.

"So, straight into it!" Began Moody, "Curses… they come in many shapes and forms. According to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you counter curses, and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal dark curses look like until you're in sixth year." At this, he smiled a rather terrifying smile at the gathered girls from Beauxbatons. "For those of you who don't know, these are Beauxbatons' sixth years. I told Maxime I was doing the lesson, and she asked if they could be included. They usually don't see these at Beauxbatons she told me, only read about 'em. I say that if you don't know what you're looking for, you're not gonna be able to fight it."

He continued to flash his smile to the Beauxbatons sixth years, many of whom were looking very nervous.

"Anyway, for you Hogwarts fourth years, according to the Ministry, you're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore has a higher opinion of your nerves. He reckons you can cope, and I say the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't about to tell you what he's gonna do, he's not gonna do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared, you need to be alert and watchful, you need to put that away Ms. Brown when I'm talking!" Lavender jumped and blushed, she was showing Parvati a completed horoscope under the desk, apparently, Moody's magical eye could see through wood, as well as the back of his head.

"So, do any of you know which curses are punished most heavily under wizarding law?"

A few hands rose tentatively into the air including Ron's, Hermione's, Gabrielle's beside him and a few of the other Beauxbatons girls. Harry knew, but he wasn't really one for sharing answers when other people were willing and ready.

Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender.

"Uh…" said Ron tentatively, "my dad told me about one. Was it called the Imperious Curse or something?"

"Ah yes." Said Moody appreciatively, "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperious Curse."

Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large, black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Though he was on the opposite side of the room, Harry could practically feel Ron recoil. Ron hated spiders.

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Imperio."

The spider leapt from Moody's hand and began to swing backward and forward on a thin strand of silk as though on a trapeze, then stretched out it's legs rigidly and did a backflip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, and then it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand and the spider rose onto it's hind two legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Everyone was laughing spare a few, namely Harry, Gabrielle, Sophie, and Gabrielle's other friend, Josephine as well as Hermione. Harry suspected that was because they, along with the stoned faced Moody alone knew what the curse truly did.

"You think it's funny, do you?" He growled. "Would you still be laughing if I did it to you?" The laughter died away almost instantly. "Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats!" Ron gave an involuntary shudder. "Years back, there were many witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperious Curse." Said Moody, and he knew that Moody was talking about the days when Voldemort had been all powerful. "Hell of a job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. The Imperious Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but not everyone can do it, it takes real strength of character, better to avoid being hit with it at all if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" He barked, and everyone jumped.

Moody picked up the spider and threw it back into the jar. "Anyone else know another illegal curse?"

Hermione's hand flew into the air once again, as well as a few others including Gabrielle and a couple of other girls from Beauxbatons, but so, to Harry's surprise, did Neville's, although with a bit of hesitancy. The only class in which Neville usually volunteered information was Herbology, which was easily his best subject. Neville looked surprised by his own daring.

"Yes?" Said Moody, his magical eye rolling right over to focus on Neville.

"There's one… the Cruciatus Curse, sir." Said Neville in a small but distinct voice.

Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes. "Your name's Longbottom?" He asked, his eyes roaming down to check the register again. Neville nodded nervously, but Moody made no further inquiries.

Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar and removed the next spider and put it on his desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

"The Cruciatus Curse," Said Moody, "needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea." He muttered to himself, pointing his wand at the spider. "Engorgio." The spider swelled, it was now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretence, Harry could see Ron push his chair as far backwards from Moody's desk as possible. Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider and said "Crucio!"

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body. It rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. Harry shuddered, remembering the feeling brought on by that curse at the Quidditch World Cup. Gabrielle looked over at him with a concerned look, but he shot her a weak smile in a vein attempt to placate her.

As the spider continued to twitch and make a horrible, high pitched sound that was clearly its equivalent to a scream, Harry saw Gabrielle's head turn well away from the spider as she muttered "Quel bâtard" Under her breath, actually drawing a soft gasp and a scandalized look from Sophie beside them.

As the spider began to shudder on the desk, two voices cried out at once. One was Hermione's shrill tones, and the other was Gabrielle's voice, no longer musical, but loud, clear, and venomous.

"STOP IT! Cried Hermione.

"ARRÊTEZ!" Cried Gabrielle.

Gabrielle however, wasn't about to wait for an answer. Fast as quicksilver, the girl's wand was in her hand and she flicked it towards the spider, cutting it in half and killing it instantly. Though this did have the unfortunate effect of causing a bit of a mess, it did stop the torture.

Harry had realized the cause for the girl's outcry once he had followed Gabrielle's gaze. It was Neville.

Harry, upon following Gabrielle's gaze, saw that Neville's hands were clenched upon the desk, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified. It was at this moment Harry remembered he was supposed to look into tragedy in Neville's life, and also the moment a horrible realization struck him. He was about to watch the very curse that took his parents from him. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he felt his heart rate rise as fast as his anxiety.

Moody stared firmly at Gabrielle but did not challenge her before he raised his wand, "Evanesco." the spider's remains vanished. "Pain," said Moody softly, "you don't need thumb screws and nails to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse. That one was very popular once too."

"Right, anyone know the last one?"

Harry looked around and no one raised their hands. It was clear that some knew, but like Harry, did not want to say. Harry heard Gabrielle hiss something in French again and turned back to the front to see Moody staring at him.

"Potter? Any guesses?"

Beside him, Harry saw Gabrielle's hands clench the desk, and it appeared as if she was going to shout something at Moody when Harry finally gave in and spoke in a resigned, monotone voice.

"Avada Kedavra."

Several people looked uneasily around at him, including Ron.

"Ah," said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth, "yes, the last and worst, Avada Kedavra, the Killing Curse."

He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as if it knew what was coming, the last spider scurried along the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle across the desktop and Moody raised his wand. Suddenly, Harry felt a sudden rush of foreboding, and took a long, deep breath in a failed effort to both calm and prepare himself. To his surprise, he felt his hand becoming enveloped by another underneath the table on Gabrielle's side. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" Moody roared.

There was a flash of blinding green light, and a rushing sound, as though something vast was soaring through the air. Instantaneously, the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries, Ron lurched backwards and had almost thrown himself off his seat as the spider skidded toward him, but Harry saw none of it.

He had shut his eyes against the blinding green light and suddenly, as if it had been waiting on film, a memory played itself through in his mind, but this time, unlike when he had been confronted by the Dementors last year, the scene played itself through with visuals, as well as sound.

" _ **Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead –"**_

" _ **This is my last warning –"**_

" _ **Not Harry! Please … have mercy … have mercy … Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything –"**_

It was worse, so much worse because for the first time in his life, Harry could see what was going on. It was as if seeing the curse that had destroyed his very life had unlocked the full memory itself. He watched helplessly from the point of view of his crib as a tall, hooded figure raised his wand, and a high cold voice cried out the words Harry had known for years, the first words he had ever known, the words he had learned through nightmares as an infant.

" _ **Avada Kedavra."**_ And in an identical flash of green light to the one he had just seen in the present, Harry watched as Lily Potter fell to the floor, as lifeless as the spider had moments earlier.

"'arry?"

Harry's eyes snapped open, as he looked around.

The class seemed to be looking at him, his head had slumped onto the desk in front of him. He could feel his own hand in Gabrielle's, and he realized now for the first time that he was gripping her hand like a vice. He quickly loosened his grip, though she did not let him pull it away. He could feel sweat on his forehead and he realized that both his heart rate and his breathing were quicker than normal.

"'arry?" Gabrielle whispered softly into his ear once more, raising a hand to gently prod him. He flinched away, eyes wide as his adrenaline was racing.

"You alright lad?" Came the voice of the professor.

"Fine." Said Harry in an unconvincing, breathless tone. Moody just nodded before pressing on, but Harry did not hear him, he heard nothing but the rushing of blood in his ears, and a high, cold laugh.

…..

Gabrielle looked over at the boy beside her as Moody began to speak and realized for the second time he was gone to the world. His eyes were staring forwards in a stereotypical thousand yard stare, his face completely blank. She debated on getting his attention again, but the professor would almost certainly see her, and she did not want to draw the ire of a Hogwarts professor, her own headmistress would be most unpleased.

She could feel rage boiling away in the pit of her stomach. What were the odds? Two of the boys in this room had had their lives tainted by unforgivable curses, and not only did Moody show them the curses themselves, but he picked out each boy when the respective curse came up.

"Not nice," he said calmly, "not pleasant, instant death, pure and simple and there's no countercurse, there's no blocking it, only one known person has ever survived it, and he is sitting right here in front of me."

Gabrielle felt her own rage boil over as she closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath, it was now her turn to grip Harry's hand like a vice, his grip in comparison was completely slack, as though his body had just decided not to work anymore. She took a deep, calming breath and focused on Occlumency to calm down as she continued to listen to Moody's speech.

"Avada Kedavra is a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it. You could all get your wands out, and point them at me, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed." Gabrielle's free hand twitched towards her pocket, as her mind wanted her to cast it, her Veela side at least, was dying to hear the words come out of her mouth as her wand aimed at Moody. "But that doesn't matter," Continued Moody, "I'm not here to teach you how to do it. Now, if there's no counter curse, why am I showing you? It's cause you've got to know; you've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" He roared, and the whole class jumped again.

"Now, those three curses, Avada Kedavra, Cruciatus, and Imperious are known as the Unforgivable curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against, that's what I need to teach you to fight, and for you Beauxbatons folk, the same goes for your professor. You need preparing, you need arming, but most of all you need to practice constant, never ceasing vigilance! Get out your quills, copy this down."

As Moody turned away, Gabrielle finally released Harry's hand, but gently brushed hers up against his cheek in an effort to get his attention. As soon as she did, her entire hand warmed, and felt as if it was being charged but she ignored it. She padded his cheek lightly until his eyes began to focus again.

"We're zupposed to copy it all down." Gabrielle told him gently. He nodded but did not reply. He simply took out a sheet of paper and began to write, or that's what it looked like. Really, when Gabrielle glanced over, she could see he was doing his best to puncture the parchment.

After a good time longer, the class ended, and before Gabrielle or anyone else could speak with him, Harry had stood, flung his bag over his shoulder and made a beeline for the door.

"Harry!" Gabrielle heard Hermione call out. The girl went to go after him, but Gabrielle stopped her with a firm grip on the back of her shirt. "Let me go!" Demanded the smaller girl, but Gabrielle was quite a bit taller, and with the enhanced strength of a Veela, far stronger.

"Don't go after 'im." She said, and her voice was stern.

"What?" Asked Hermione incredulously. Ron was also hanging around the outskirts, as were Gabrielle's friends, Sophie, Sofia, and Josephine. "But he's my-"

"I know zat 'ermione, but wiss all do respect he does not need your blunt approach right now."

"I-" the other girl stammered.

"I do not mean to be rude, but it is not what 'e needs." Gabrielle looked at the girl who had become a friend. They had talked that day at the Gryffindor table, and quite a bit more in the library. "Do you trust me 'ermione?"

The girl looked like she was going to say no, but as she looked up into the pale blue eyes of the older girl, Hermione seemed to find that no was not an acceptable answer, so she just nodded.

"I will go after 'im." Declared Gabrielle, releasing Hermione and slinging her own bag over her shoulder before looking to her friends. "If anyone asks, I am in the library and do not wish to be disturbed."

And without another word to anyone in her wake, Gabrielle swept from the room, all grace forgotten for speed and efficiency, though her long, silvery blonde hair still fanned out behind her as if caught in a majestic wind.

…..

 **Authors Endnote:**

 **I'm actually quite nervous to see how this one goes over, as I took a canon event and made it a lot more extreme.**

 **I never did really understand how this didn't bother Harry more in canon, I mean, the memories of his parents DESTROYED HIM the year before, so I fail to see how this wouldn't have an effect. So please don't tell me I went overboard. If you'd like to discuss it, PM me, but don't leave reviews just to say that.**

 **Also, I know it's weird for the two classes (one sixth year, one fourth year) to have classes together. But in canon, they're not supposed to learn about them until sixth year. And I have stated already that at least in this story. Beauxbatons doesn't have the best DADA program, so it's only natural for Maxime to allow them to see the curses performed by an esteemed Auror with a stellar reputation.**

 **Either way, review and let me know what you think.**

 **Also, a quick heads up. I am 99% sure there will not be a chapter next week, as I am travelling to a country I do not live in to compete, so I really don't think I'll have time. I will still hopefully get a chapter out for one of my other stories, but chapter 15 of this will almost certainly not be done before I leave. So, sorry in advance for that, but there's no realy way around it.**

 **Next chapter, for the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, Gabrielle finally feels as if she has made some progress, as if nothing else, at least she was able to do what she felt obligated to do for months.**


	15. The Art of Healing

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter; it all belongs to J.K Rowling.**

 **Authors Note 1:**

 **A bit nervous for this one, as it is the first long, one on one interaction between Harry and Gabrielle since they've met. Wish me luck!**

 **Authors Note 2:**

 **I apologize for the long wait on this chapter. I had final exams to write, and this one fought back quite hard. I really needed to just sit down and play with it and I really didn't have the time to do it. But at long last it is done, and summer is upon me, so you can expect more frequent uploads. I'll try for one a week at least for the next few, but no promises.**

 **Authors Note 3:**

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story. Also, a special shoutout to my friend DZ2 for the help with this chapter; it was greatly appreciated.**

 **Review Answers.**

 **NakedGrizz: I get the impression that a lot of people are excited for that. I only hope I can deliver on the hype.**

 **BBryant: I see your point, but when has Harry ever had self control? He's had multiple in class meltdowns, so I don't really think your counter is that plausible, even if in theory, you're right on his desires.**

"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.'

 **Parseltongue.**

 _French._

 _ **Memories.**_

 **Chapter 15: The Art of Healing.**

Gabrielle strode quickly through the halls of Hogwarts, ignoring the stares of onlookers as she passed by.

She had no idea where she was going… well, not exactly anyway. While her mind had no idea where she was going, as this maze of a school was still mostly a mystery to her, her body on the other hand… or her magic to be more precise, seemed to know exactly where it was leading her.

Just to make sure, Gabrielle stopped and focused in on herself. She had read about this particular technique in one of her grandmother's ancient tomes. She had started reading quite a bit about the bond since she had discovered who her mate was, and if she could pull this off, it was certainly one of the perks on her end.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath as she focused on her magic, trying to pull it to the surface while concentrating hard on the feeling she had gotten earlier when she had seized Harry's hand under the desk.

When she opened her eyes, Gabrielle could see a faint, golden...something in the air. It almost resembled a vapor trail.

Despite the situation, she smiled, she had not expected her first experiment on this to work.

…..

Harry needed to get out of the castle.

That was the only coherent thought racing through his mind as he sped out the door of the classroom and began to make his way down the hall.

The words "Avada Kedavra" playing over and over again in his mind, his mind's eye consumed by that same burst of terrible green light.

As he walked, he could not help but think of not only his parents but Sirius and connect the dots. The flash of green light, followed by his parents on the floor, likely with the same blank look that had been present in the grey eyes of his godfather.

Harry did not know what he felt… the answer was grief, but he did not know it. It was eating him alive, and he just needed a release of some kind, any kind.

Without truly realizing where his feet were carrying him, Harry inhaled deeply as he stepped out of the oak front doors and onto the Hogwarts grounds, intaking the cool fall air as it was not such a cold day, at least by the standards of October in Scotland.

Before he knew it, Harry was at the lake. The spot he, Ron and Hermione had monopolized over the last four years, under a large pine tree near the water's edge.

Harry tried to will himself to relax, but his body suddenly felt cold. It was an odd mix, as at the same time, Harry still felt the flames of grief burning in his stomach.

He looked around, at first he thought of Dementors and then the realization hit him.

He was standing not 30 feet from where Sirius had perished at the end of last year.

Without realizing it, Harry's breath began to quicken as cold sweat gathered on his forehead. His heart began to race as his stomach churned.

He tried to fight it as he closed his emerald eyes to try to ward himself off from the horrors of reality, but against his will, a memory floated to the surface.

 **Flashback**

" _ **SIRIUS!" Screamed Harry as he saw Ron fall and watched in transfixed horror as Pettigrew transformed into the rat he had known for three years and took off through the grass. "SIRIUS! IT'S PETTIGREW! HE'S GETTING AWAY!"**_

 _ **As if on queue, the hulking black dog that Harry now knew to be the animagus form of his godfather streaked past him like a large black blur, barking as it chased down the pitiful rat that had sold Harry's parents to Voldemort.**_

 _ **Harry turned as the werewolf surveyed him and his friends, simultaneously nursing a large bite mark on its neck.**_

 _ **Its sharp eyes focused on Harry, and a low growl escaped his mouth. Harry brandished his wand, standing in what he knew to be a defensive posture but his heart was racing, he knew he would likely be no match for a fully grown werewolf.**_

 _ **At that moment though, the oddest thing happened.**_

 _ **The werewolf's ears pricked up, as though it sensed danger. It was at that moment it let out a loud, horrible howl, as it turned heel and took off towards the forbidden forest, bounding at a tremendous speed as it shot through the night.**_

 _ **Harry let out a deep breath that he had not realized he had been holding. Relief seeming to lift a great weight off of his back as the danger seemed to relent.**_

 _ **As if the force of irony had not intervened enough in his life, it was at that moment Harry heard a sound that made his blood run cold. A pitiful whining sound, a loud chorus of whimpers from a dog, somewhere not too far away.**_

" _ **SIRIUS!" Screamed Harry, terror ripping through his body like never before as he spun to look towards the lake, not even hesitating at the sight before him. Like the werewolf had seconds earlier, Harry took off like a speeding bullet, though unlike the creature that had once been his favourite Defense Against The Dark Arts professor, Harry was heading straight into the heart of the danger, not away from him.**_

 _ **He ran faster than he had ever run before, but quickly he began to feel weak, and he realized he could not afford to run anymore. He would never get there in time and he could already feel the effects of the creatures taking a hold of him, weakening him.**_

 _ **Harry looked resolutely forwards as he drew his wand, looking upon the nightmarish sight in front of him as he tried to summon forth the courage to do what had to be done, and the memory to fuel the fire that could extinguish the hell that was upon them.**_

 _ **Up ahead of him, Harry could see the shadowy forms of not tens, but hundreds of tall, hooded figures, all shrouded in black cloaks, and in the midst of them, he saw a dog feebly trying to escape as greyish, slimy hands pinned it to the ground.**_

 _ **Harry saw the Dementor peel back his hood as he raised his wand, his arm shaking as he brought forth the memory of himself holding the Quidditch cup high and proud. "Expecto Patronum!"**_

 _ **Instantly, a silver stag exploded from the end of Harry's wand and shot towards the Dementors. Instantly, the Dementor with Sirius paused his advance, it's head snapping up towards the cry and the creature seemed to shrink in on itself as the Patronus shot towards it, as it seemed to know that it was the monster the beast was after.**_

 _ **Harry almost celebrated, that was until to his horror, his Patronus flickered out of existence when it entered the middle of the circle. Apparently there was just too many of them.**_

" _ **Most wizards who can manage the Patronus charm can fend off a few Dementors at a time. If one is both exceptionally gifted and exceptionally powerful, they may even be able to fend off upwards of a dozen. But beyond that, with the exception of maybe Professor Dumbledore, the chances of fending off a hoard of Dementors isn't a good one."**_

 _ **Harry remembered with horror the words of Professor Lupin as he watched the Dementor loom over Sirius once more.**_

" _ **Expecto Patronum!" He called to the night, this time envisioning the moment he learned he was a wizard. Again, the stag Patronus erupted from Harry's wand and shot towards the Dementors, but again it faded. "Expecto Patronum!" The memory of his first conversation with Ron, but he could no longer produce more than wisps of smoke as he could feel his power draining away from him. Worse still, the smoke was not enough to force the Dementor to halt its advances. "Expecto Patronum!" The feeling of euphoria the day they had conquered the troll. Nothing. "Expecto Patronum!" The feeling of the wind in his hair as he dove for the snitch. Nothing. "Expecto Patronum!" The exhilaration and relief coursing through out his body as the sorting hat cried "GRYFFINDOR!" Nothing.**_

 _ **Harry staggered backwards, not only was his strength leaving him, but the Dementors were onto him, and now a great number of them were surging towards him. Worse still, the Dementors hood was down, and Harry could see a horrible grey head dipping down over Sirius.**_

' _ **Sirius, Sirius. I can't lose Sirius, I can't let down Sirius.'**_

 _ **It was this thought that drove him, this thought that gave him the strength for one, last, titanic effort as he remembered his godfather's offer of a home, an escape.**_

" _ **EXPECTO PATRONUM!"**_

 _ **Harry knew he had succeeded. He felt every fiber in his body tingle with the magical energy that quickly emanated from the end of his wand and took the shape of a stag, but it was huge, seeming to be half as tall as the castle itself as it charged down the hoard of Dementors.**_

 _ **Harry's vision swam as black spots darted in and out of his line of sight, but he stayed on his feet… he had to.**_

 _ **This time, the stag did not dissipate and the Dementors fled from it's oncoming charge.**_

 _ **Harry staggered forwards, elated at his victory even as the blackness began closing in on him from all sides.**_

" _ **I did it, Sirius." He croaked out, his voice weak as he staggered and lost balance, falling on his knees in front of his godfather.**_

 _ **And that's when he knew.**_

 _ **As Harry fell, he saw Sirius's head lull in an unnatural way and a sudden cold gripped his chest. "Sirius!" He said, his voice panicked as he looked down and his green eyes widened as they focused not on piercing grey ones, but on two wide, blank, empty looking eyes.**_

 _ **It was with cold flooding his veins and agony puncturing his heart that Harry succumb to the darkness around him.**_

 **End Flashback**

With a great effort, Harry pulled his mind out of the memory and back to the present.

He was breathing quickly, sweat gathering on his face, but that wasn't what was bothering him the most. It was the chill in his bones, the same chill he had felt that night and he knew but one counter.

He drew his wand and focused once more on the thought of living with Sirius, no matter how impossible, no matter how fleeting. "Expecto Patronum." He intoned, causing a fog of silvery vapour to emerge from his wand, before quickly taking the form of his faithful stag.

This was expected, as was the sudden feeling of the cold in his bones being drained away and replaced by a comfortable warmth, even if his mind was not entirely at ease, it certainly helped.

What Harry had not been prepared for was to hear a soft gasp come from nearly right behind him.

The sound caused him to jump, spinning in the air and aiming his wand. He stopped dead when he saw the tall, beautiful, blonde woman standing there, looking in awe at the silvery creature he had just created.

Harry's heart rate, which had only marginally began to slow down, had jumped up again. "Don't do that!" He said, though he sounded more annoyed than scared.

"I wasn't planning on you 'aving a wand in your 'and." Gabrielle defended, a slight blush touching her cheeks.

Harry did not acknowledge her, he just turned to bask in the light of his creation, allowing the natural warmth and comfort provided by the Patronus to fill him and to hopefully wash away some of the feelings of despair that had threatened to take him over.

It worked marginally, but he still felt an all too familiar feeling that he could not shake simply through the comfort of the stag. Guilt. Red, hot, burning guilt in the pit of his stomach. He had found a remedy for this over the last few weeks though. If he exhausted himself, the feeling would usually subside, Harry figured this had something to do with it requiring energy to keep going.

"It's beautiful." Gabrielle breathed out from behind him, her soft voice proving to be little more than a whisper on the wind.

Harry just nodded as he closed his eyes and focused on his magic before pouring more of it into the stag. Instantly the stag began to swell, not rapidly like the night he tried to fight the Dementors, but it certainly grew.

Gabrielle gasped once more as the stag grew in front of her eyes. It was an incredible feat by the boy in front of her, one that she had not even known to be possible. She focused on the magic around them and tried to gauge it more accurately, and that was when she made a startling discovery. The stag was consuming the magical energy around it, which was what was allowing it to grow in the first place. At the same time though, magic seemed to be pouring out of Harry.

"'Arry, you need to stop." Insisted Gabrielle with concern, stepping forward and putting a firm hand on his shoulder. Though his flinch away was unexpected, Gabrielle did succeed in making him stop, even if it was due to her breaking his concentration.

"Why?" He asked, his voice coming out in an odd mixture of flat and breathless.

"It's consuming your magic at an incredible rate." Gabrielle stated. "You will exhaust yourself if you keep zis up."

"I know that." Said Harry, "But I still fail to see why I shouldn't be doing it."

Gabrielle furrowed her brow. "Exhausting your magic to zis extent is unhealthy for your magical core." She then looked at the Patronus in front of her. "Your magical core is like a muscle, expending your magic normally can 'elp you expand your core, but draining yourself like this…." she said, gesturing to the Patronus, "if done enouss, it can 'ave serious repercussions on your magic."

Harry was beginning to breathe a bit heavy. It was tiring to maintain his Patronus in general, but far more so in this form.

He felt Gabrielle's hand slide down from his shoulder to his arm, where she clutched it lightly, pulling it down, bringing his wand down with it. "Cancel ze spell." She said softly, but she did not need to speak up to get her point across. Harry hesitated, not wanting to lose the feeling of warmth that had washed over him upon the appearance of his patronus. He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt soft, warm arms gently inclose him from behind, and he felt himself being pulled gently backwards until he was leaning against Gabrielle, her standing behind him with her arms wrapped tightly around him, her head leaned down right beside his ear, her blonde hair tickling the side of his face.

Normally, Harry was not a fan of anyone touching him, let alone being this close to someone; but for some reason, it just felt right. For one thing, Gabrielle's soft, gentle embrace provided all the warmth he needed, as an almost unnatural amount of warmth seemed to be radiating off of her, and on top of that, there was just something… right about it, something that made Harry feel at ease as he felt every muscle in his body relax as he gently closed his eyes, and let himself fall backwards against Gabrielle, who didn't even waiver as she was essentially forced to bare his full weight. He felt all the fight leave him in that moment, and he knew what would come next. "Please 'Arry," he heard her whisper softly in his ear, gently swaying both of them side to side as she spoke, "releaze the spell."

Harry took a deep breath before letting go of his control on his magic. Instantly, the Patronus faded out of existence and he felt most of his strength leave his body as the world spun for a moment and he felt himself lose balance.

His knees would have buckled had Gabrielle not caught him, pulling him upright as she turned him so they were facing one another, one of her hands on each of his arms, holding him steady as he centered himself once more. He would be tired for the rest of the day, but the drastic effects would wear off in a couple of minutes. At present, he was a bit more annoyed at the sudden distance between them, as weird as that thought was for him; the warmth had been more than welcome.

Harry panted as he leaned forward, relying on Gabrielle to keep him steady. She wrapped her arms around him again, pulling him close to her, he leaned against her once more, allowing his head to fall onto her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. He hadn't accomplished anything due to her intervention. He had fatigued himself enough to greatly weaken his magic and his body for the next few minutes and to likely leave him feeling a bit weak for the rest of the day; but he had not gotten to exhaust himself enough to quench the burning guilt in the pit of his stomach, even if it was less than it had been when he had stood here minutes earlier.

Gabrielle thanked her heightened strength as she shifted the position, he was not heavy as it was, but her Veela gifts made it far easier. She moved him so that she still had a hold of his upper arms, but his feet were now right in front of hers, the rest of his body a bit further back, forcing him into a bit of a slant where he had to look up into her eyes. "Why were you doing zat?" She asked him. Her voice was not stern, it was soft and quiet, but it still seemed to demand an answer out of him.

"Practicing." Harry lied.

"We boss know zat's not true." Said Gabrielle as her blue eyes bored into him. She did not need magic to know she was right, the guilt was written all over his face and she had felt his anxiety rise through the bond as she asked. "Please do not lie to me, Harry. I am trying to 'elp you."

"I don't need help with anything at the moment." He said a bit defensively before realizing that she was pretty much supporting him. "Well, except maybe to keep me from falling on my face." He amended weekly.

Gabrielle sighed as she gently lowered him to the ground, resting his back up against the pine tree that cast the ground beneath it into shadow. She took a seat directly in front of him, maintaining eye contact as she took her own seat.

"Your actions beg to differ 'Arry." She said softly, reaching out and taking his hands gently in hers as she spoke. Again he flinched at her touch, but she did not let go, just held on as she looked him dead in the eyes. "Magically exhausting yourself as a way of venting is not ze action of someone who does not need 'elp."

"I wasn't-" he started, but Gabrielle was having none of it.

"Zat is exactly what you were doing, and judging by ze way you conducted yourself, zis wasn't ze first time." And that's when dots suddenly connected in her mind. "Killing yourself in the middle of the night ... zat's what the ghost meant when he spoke to you at the feast, wasn't it?"

Harry flushed a bit, thrown completely off guard by the entire situation. In truth, Nick had probably been referring to mainly Harry exhausting himself with the practice of Dumbledore's spells and others he had read up on himself. But he could hardly tell that to Gabrielle, and in all honesty, Nick may very well have been referring to both forays. At any rate, he found it far easier to tell the truth, her mesmerizing eyes seemed to be compelling him to do anything but lie, and looking into them seemed to make that action impossible. "Probably." He admitted softly, looking away briefly, not wanting to see her reaction. He did not want to see her disappointed. That thought itself was disconcerting to him, as he had no idea where it came from, but he couldn't deny that it was certainly there.

"'Arry, zat will not solve anything. It will only cause you 'arm wiss no benefit in ze long run."

"It usually helps." He defended despite the fact he was unlikely to win this debate.

"No 'Arry, that is merely an illusion. You exhaust yourself to ze point zat your body 'as no energy for such powerful emotions. It feels like it 'elps at ze time, but 'as it really 'elped you? It's like a bandage, 'Arry. It covers the whole, perhaps even eases ze pain for ze time being, but it does not 'eal you."

"Sometimes temporary relief is enough." He responded, his voice still quiet, but growing slightly more determined now.

"But why? Why put a bandage on something zat could be sealed?"

Harry did not have an answer, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had no answer to offer her. For a long, painful few moments they sat there, staring at each other intently before Harry spoke. "Healing takes time. Time is something I don't have."

"What do you mean?" Questioned Gabrielle, her eyes reminding him eerily of Dumbledore's as they pierced into him, giving him, much like the headmaster's, the feeling of being x-rayed. "You are fourteen, you have all ze time in ze world."

Harry laughed mirthlessly. "Time is not exactly a luxury I have. As weird as that may sound to you." He responded, as his eyes looked past her and to a spot just behind them. Gabrielle turned her own head and gazed at the same spot. It was right on the shore of the lake, nothing seemed out of the ordinary to her, but Harry was staring at it with a terrifying intensity, almost with hatred. "That time could be put towards better things. I wasn't strong enough then ...I need that time to get stronger, not to heal. Healing can come later, when there is time."

"Zere is always time to 'eal." Gabrielle said softly, squeezing his hand as she felt him shifting restlessly.

"Not for me." He said simply, not elaborating on his statement. "For every second I waste, someone else seems to pay the price. You don't know my life, Gabrielle. You have no idea what happens when I'm not strong enough. That's a mistake I can't let happen again."

"You will never truly be strong if you are not 'ealed." Gabrielle said softly. Harry paused at this, he was making his way back up to his feet, but he paused in mid motion and allowed Gabrielle to gently guide him back to the ground by his hand as she continued to stare at him intently. "No matter 'ow strong you are, your weaknesses will always be exposed if you are not whole. Your suffering can always manifest in ze worst possible moment. Why do you ssink muggle soldiers are let off missions when a family tragedy takes place? Why do you ssink people lay low? Zey are not zemselves, zey're a danger to zemselves." Gabrielle squeezed Harry's hand one more time gently tracing her thumb over the back of his hand,. "I know you don't trust me enough to open up to me, 'Arry, but please, remember zis conversation, and find someone who you do trust and just talk. Say what is on your mind, say what's bothering you and how it is doing it. Just saying it will relieve the weight." She looked at him again. "You need closure, 'Arry. It is the only way to truly 'eal."

And with one last squeeze of his hand, Gabrielle made her way back to her feet gracefully, releasing Harry's hand as she did so and swept back up to the castle, leaving a very thoughtful Harry Potter gazing out over the water.

…..

 **Authors Endnote:**

 **A pretty short chapter, but it was a heavy one, and I felt something like this deserved a stand alone chapter.**

 **Also, sorry for the long wait for this one. Between travel, school, and the fact that this chapter absolutely did not want to be written… well, the wait speaks for itself.**

 **Next chapter, Harry, Fred, and George put their master plan into action, and Harry doubles as Dumbledore's apprentice, and Marauder prankster extraordinaire!**

6


	16. Sessions and Setup

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, not one bit of it, it all belongs to J.K Rowling. As such, I make no profit off of this, or any one of my other stories.**

 **IMPORTANT AUTHORS NOTE:**

 **I have started a discord server. This server is intended as a way for you guys to talk about fanfiction, mine or others, Harry Potter in general, or anything else you want really. You can also ask me any questions and I will likely answer (as long as they don't spoil anything). Also, I think I may start posting the chapters early on the discord, so if you want to be the first to read them, go use the link on my profile. I had to adjust it a bit so the site would let me put it there, but it is the code to enter the server, just use a . where I have.. Hope to see you guys there!**

 **Authors Note 2:**

 **I'm really sorry for the long delay on this chapter. I wanted to post this way more in the summer but I've been travelling a lot. On top of that, one of my betas has been quite busy, and seeing as he was already flooded with chapters, I didn't really want to send him another. So yeah, all in all just kind of a perfect storm for a delay, so I apologize but it couldn't really be avoided. The next chapter is already written, so it will be out next week.**

 **Authors Note 3:**

 **You guys may call this a filler chapter, but it's necessary to advance the story, and I think there are some fun bits in there.**

 **Authors Not**

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story.**

 **Review Answers.**

 **Tyler'sPrincess: Long time no talk my friend, I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter and yes, it was rather hard to write, but I am happy with how it all came out. As for his options… yes, they are very limited, and that will play a large part in his decision.**

 **NakedGrizz: First of all, thank you, it was a rather touching review, and I am glad you enjoyed it. As for Gabrielle… yes, it is very true, and honestly, it's going to stay that way for quite a while. You'll definitely learn about her in this story, but without spoiling too much, book 2 will answer EVERYTHING you want to know about her, but that's still a long way off.**

 **LifeIsAGreatAdventure: I wouldn't say this is bullying actually, you'll have to wait and see, but the prank in question isn't directed at a person per say, you'll see soon enough.**

 **Bountyhunter1977: Your idea makes sense, but you're forgetting something, that being his lack of trust in anyone who hasn't REALLY given him a reason to do so on a personal level.**

 **DZ2: Your words are touching, especially as you're one of the first authors whom I really clicked with on this site, and even tried to emulate to a point. Thanks for your help on the last one again, your suggestion really added to the feel of the chapter. Let's see what you make of the next few!**

 **Additional Authors Note:**

 **I don't usually do this, and I don't say it enough but thank you guys so much for the support on the last chapter! The amount of positive feedback blew me away, and it was particularly great since I was quite nervous about the chapter. So yeah, I may not always say it, but I appreciate all of your support.**

"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.'

 **Parseltongue.**

 _French/In Story Text._

 _ **Memories.**_

 **Chapter 16: Sessions and Setup.**

Harry spent the rest of that day alone, not wanting to be shaken from his thoughts as he repeatedly reviewed what Gabrielle had told him over and over again in his head. When he sat back and thought about it objectively, a large part of him acknowledged that the French witch was probably right, but another part of him didn't want to talk to anyone about it; and even if he did, who could he tell?

Harry did not sleep well that night, though that was not unexpected; visions of Sirius, Dementors, and his mother disappearing in a flash of green light haunted his dreams. As a result of all of this, when Harry awoke the next day, he was more tired than he had been in a long time.

"You look like hell." Said Ron in place of a greeting as Harry re-entered the common room after a hot shower.

"Thanks." Harry replied dryly, smiling despite himself. Sometimes he thought that was his favourite part about having Ron as his best mate; no matter the situation, the tall, gangly redhead always found a way to make Harry laugh.

"Don't mention it." Said Ron with a smirk, falling into step beside Harry as they made their way down into the common room. "Easy day today except for Snape." Noted Ron, muttering the last bit under his breath. "Double Potions, but then just Charms and Herbology, and Astronomy tonight?"

"Me and Hermione have Arithmancy." Said Harry, sighing at the prospect.

"Shame." Said Ron through a yawn as they came to the bottom of the steps and entered into the Gryffindor common room, spotting Hermione waiting for them at the portrait whole. "Morning." Said Ron as they approached her.

"Morning, Ron, Harry."

"Morning Hermione." Greeted Harry.

"Did you get the Arithmancy homework done?" She asked him without preamble as they exited for the Great Hall.

"Yeah, I don't know if I did it right though. It was a bit confusing. Can I check yours after Potions?"

"Sure." Said Hermione, causing Ron to sputter incredulously.

"You never let me check yours?" He complained. "Why are you letting Harry?"

"Because Ron," sighed Hermione, looking exasperated. "unlike some people I could mention, Harry doesn't ask me every night, and he actually puts full effort into all of his homework."

"I dodge Snape's every now and then." Harry answered fairly, causing Hermione to sigh and Ron to snicker.

They entered the Great Hall, early as usual, and made their way to the Gryffindor table. They were not alone however, as Gabrielle and her friends seemed to have sat at their table, something they had not done since the day Harry, Fred and George had begun to plan their master prank. Without thinking about it, Harry drifted over to them, taking the empty seat beside Gabrielle as Ron took the seat beside Harry, and Hermione one across from him.

"Good morning." Greeted Gabrielle politely, echoed moments later by her friends, Sophie and Josephine.

"There was another one of you, wasn't there?" Asked Ron, unable to contain the question. Harry could have sighed at his friend but Gabrielle answered him nonetheless.

"Yes, Sophia is sleeping in since we 'ave a light morning course load. What about you ssree?"

"Double Potions." Moaned Harry through a yawn, causing Gabrielle to look at him and frown.

"Zat's the class with ze teacher who you dislike?" She asked him.

"You mean the greasy git posing as a professor? Yeah, that's the one."

Ron burst into laughter at this, and even Hermione had to suppress a giggle. Harry almost jumped as he felt Gabrielle's breath tickle his ear as she whispered to him in a voice laced with concern, seeming to use Ron's amusement as a cover to do so. "You did not sleep well last night?"

"Not really." He admitted quietly, causing her to shoot him a sad look, as she rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, which miraculously caused Harry no discomfort, something he thought was odd as she whispered again.

"Are you ok?"

"Fine." He muttered, though she didn't seem to be convinced. A second later though, Hermione piped up, ending their dialogue.

"What classes do you have today, Gabrielle, Sophie, Josephine?"

"Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy and Spell Creation."

"Spell Creation?" Asked Hermione, sounding a bit awed.

"We don't do Astronomy like you guys." She clarified, causing Hermione to take on a rather contemplative look.

"Spell Creation sounds incredibly interesting though." Said Hermione, a sentiment that Harry couldn't help but agree with.

"You would ssink so," said Josephine, speaking for the first time. "but until zis year, we 'adn't done much of anyssing to tell you the truss. Well, we do a lot, but not what you would expect. It was mainly just understanding the theory, we didn't actually learn 'ow to create spells. Zat started zis year."

"Have you created any yet?" Asked Hermione eagerly, to which Gabrielle shook her head.

"Zat is our end of year project." She said, causing Hermione to look a bit confused. "We only have exams in ze core subjects;" she explained. "Charms, Defense, Transfiguration, and Potions. In all of ze others, we just 'ave these huge projects that essentially serve as an exam. For Spell Creation, we 'ave to create something unique and useful."

"That actually sounds like a pretty good system." Noted Harry, to which Hermione nodded her agreement.

"A lot of work though." Put in Ron darkly.

"No studying for exams though." Countered Harry, making Ron look all of a sudden quite wistful.

Since they had sat down, many more people had filed into the Great Hall, something Harry hadn't even noticed until the owl post arrived. To his surprise, his own owl, Hedwig, was among all of the others, easily distinguishable among the clouds of brown and grey feathers.

"Iz zat your owl?" Asked Sophie, right as Hedwig landed right in front of Harry, who nodded. "She'z beautiful." The quiet girl breathed, looking at the owl almost longingly. Harry smiled, and gently nudged his owl towards the blonde, Hedwig turned her eyes on Sophie and seemed to consider her for a moment before giving a gentle hoot and gliding over towards her, making the other girl smile widely as she gently stroked Hedwig's feathers.

Though Harry loved his owl, his attention was not on her, but on a piece of parchment in his hands, a piece of parchment that was addressed to him in a tall, loopy scroll.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I hope your week has gone well, and I hope that it comes to a close in much the same way I hope it has progressed._

 _It would give me great pleasure if you could meet me tomorrow night at 8:00 in our favourite room._

 _Write me back as soon as possible if the time does not work for you._

 _Enjoy the last day of the week._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Professor Dumbledore._

"Who is it from?" Asked Gabrielle, who, to Harry's relief, had the decency not to read the letter over his shoulder.

"A friend from outside of school." Answered Harry, coming up with the best thing he could on such short notice. He thought he may have answered a bit too quickly, as for a moment he thought he saw Gabrielle frown, but a second later her face was back to its normal, ethereal look.

"We should probably get down to the dungeons soon." Sighed a resigned looking Ron, causing Harry to sigh.

"You 'aven't eaten anything?" Noted Gabrielle, looking at Harry with one perfect eyebrow arched. "You didn't last time we sat together either."

"No, I usually don't eat in the mornings." Answered Harry truthfully, as three meals a day was still something his body didn't usually allow him to do. He could usually do it near the end of the school year, but not at the beginning, as his body had usually grown accustomed to a lack of quality meals over the summer.

"Why not?" Asked Gabrielle, causing Harry to sigh.

'Why do you always have to ask the hard questions?' He asked himself before shrugging. "Just never really sat well in the morning." He said, as it was not a complete lie. "Well," he said sadly, turning to Ron and Hermione as he reached for his bag. "let's get this over with."

"And where do you think you're going, ickle Harrykins?" Asked two voices as one from his side, making him sigh yet again, as the Beauxbatons crowd giggled at the twins' antics.

"Morning Gred, Forge." Harry greeted them, causing the twins to beam at the use of their preferred names, at least while they were making a scene. "Wish I could tell you I wasn't going anywhere, but we've got Double Potions in the dungeons?"

"Not Potions!" Said Fred.

"Double Potions." Added Harry darkly, causing the twins to clutch their hearts in mock horror.

"Over two hours locked in those torture chambers?" Asked George, sounding horrified.

"With the slime ball?" Added Fred.

"With no shampoo?" They finished together, causing everyone, minus Hermione to laugh.

"Afraid so." Said Harry, standing up as he threw his bag over his shoulder.

"Tomorrow night Harrykins? Asked Fred.

"8 O'clock." Added George.

"Can't do 8 guys." Said Harry, his mind flickering back to the note currently residing in the pocket of his robes. "I'll find you guys after that though. Might be late, but it's a Saturday."

"But Harry," spoke up Hermione. "it might be after curfew, you wouldn't want to-"

"Sounds like a plan!" Chorused the twins as one, cutting off Hermione's tireade before it began, and conveniently walking off before she could start on them too.

Harry smiled to himself, spacing out for almost all of Hermione's lecture as they made their way down to the dungeons. He really was happy he had befriended those two.

The next night, Harry politely excused himself from his conversation with Ron and Hermione, who alone knew where he was going. Slipping on his invisibility cloak, remembering the request Dumbledore had made of him, Harry snuck to the seventh floor corridor, at which point he saw a door on the wall that normally wouldn't be there. He knocked, and a second later heard Dumbledore's voice from inside.

"Enter."

Harry pushed the door open and entered the same room he had in their last lesson. Dumbledore stood in the center of it, tonight wearing simple black robes which actually took Harry aback. Dumbledore chuckled at Harry's look. "One can only have so many vibrant coloured robes, Harry." He said, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards with amusement. "I trust that you have been well since our last lesson?"

Harry's mind instantly flashed to the lesson with Moody, but he didn't mention it, though he considered it. Was there anyone he could trust more than Dumbledore? But no, Albus Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard alive would hardly want to be bothered by the quams of a fourteen year old boy. "Yes sir." Answered Harry. Dumbledore peered at him for a moment, as if he knew something was amiss, but a moment later he smiled once more, the twinkle in his eyes on full display once more.

"I am happy to hear it. Now," he said, his voice suddenly taking on a far more serious tone. "I told you last lesson that I would be testing you on your progress with the Protego Maxima, Aegis Spheara, and Aegis Magnum shields. Have you been keeping up with practice like I asked of you, Harry?"

"Yes sir." Answered Harry, who had indeed been practicing all of the shields a great deal.

"Good, I am pleased to hear it." Said Dumbledore, the twinkle seeming to turn up a notch as he spoke. "And, before I test your progress myself, how do you personally think you have been progressing, Harry?"

Harry thought about it for a moment. "I'm fairly happy with myself, sir. I can cast the first one every time verbally, and most of the time non verbally." He blushed a bit as he said the last bit. "It's not as powerful that way though."

"Naturally." Said Dumbledore, seeming to notice Harry's discomfort. "That is natural, Harry. It will take countless hours of practice with the non verbal variant before it is up to equal power with the spoken variation. The fact that you are having so much success at all non-verbally is impressive on its own, and I am happy with that progress. Now, what of the others?"

"I can get Aegis Sphaera to work almost every time verbally, I do have the odd time where I can't cast it, but that's happening less and less. Non verbally… I figure I can cast it about half the time."

"And the Mage Shield?" Asked Dumbledore, nodding his head approvingly at his pupil's accomplishments.

"Still a no go." Harry said a bit bitterly. "I've been trying professor, I really have, it's just-"

"Harry," said Dumbledore, raising a hand to silence him. "there are very few full grown wizards who have even a hope of ever casting the Mage Shield. I do feel you can do it, and I feel you will accomplish it before too long, but don't be at all discouraged. I knew it was a difficult, and quite frankly unfair task to ask of you, but I know from experience how powerful a weapon it can be on a battlefield, so I decided it would be in your best interests to know of it."

Harry brightened a bit at Dumbledore's confidence in him. He, Albus Dumbledore seemed to genuinely believe that Harry, at fourteen could cast a spell that would forever evade many fully qualified adult witches and wizards.

"Alright Harry, I think it time we test your progress. Take out your wand and verbally cast the Protego Maxima shield. We will begin here and work our way up. I will test both the verbal and non verbal variants of the first two shields, and observe your attempt on the third. Are you ready?"

Harry did not know how long it took to test his shields, but by the end of it he was properly knackered, and Dumbledore evidently knew it for he said. "I think we will forgo Aegis Magnum for tonight, as there is new material I wish to teach you, and it would not do for you to be too tired to make a true attempt." He stood, and paced for a moment before speaking. "Often times, it is not power that decides a battle of wizards, nor is it who has the deadlier spell arsenal, often times it is the little things; things that your opponent does not expect, things that can give you an edge, however slight. One way of accomplishing this is through Transfiguration. I understand from Minerva that you do quite well in her classes?"

"Yes sir."

"What are your Transfiguration grades usually, Harry?"

"Mostly O's, sir." Said Harry, drawing an approving nod from Dumbledore.

"Very good! In that case, I think we can start our unit, for lack of a better term, on battle Transfiguration off with some conjurations, a way to add some new pieces onto the chess board."

"But sir, we haven't done anything on conjurations yet?"

"Oh, I know that, Harry. I used to teach the subject after all. As a matter of fact, I taught the very man whom we seek to destroy. No, if I remember correctly, conjurations are not covered until the sixth year, but in reality that is mainly due to precautions that I do not believe will cause you any problems."

"Um, what kind of precautions sir?"

"The way a conjuration works, Harry, is that it draws on ones magic to conjure an object into existence. It is more complicated than this, but think of it as transferring one's magic into living matter. The issue with this is, as I am sure you have guessed, that it does create a considerable drain on one's magic, hence the wait until sixth year. Many younger students still have a long way to go before they truly come into their powers. As a result of this, the constant drain of their magic would give them serious issues performing the task at best, and possible magical exhaustion at worst."

"But you don't think it will be a problem?" Asked Harry.

"No, I do not." Stated Dumbledore. "To put it bluntly, Harry, in terms of raw magical power, not ability, just power alone; you are likely the most powerful Hogwarts student in this castle, with Cedric Diggory perhaps being your lone challenge in the department. I know this to be true, as most seventh years would simply lack the power required to maintain the Aegis Sphaera shield for any considerable amount of time, especially while said shield was under fire."

"Another reason conjuration is not taught until one's later years is it is believed that by then, one will have a firm grasp on the number one rule of magic by heart, even if they do not necessarily know it. Any guesses what that rule is, Harry?"

Harry thought hard, not wanting to miss such a key point, nor did he want to look stupid in front of Dumbledore, who was taking precious time out of his day in an effort to teach Harry how to survive. After several moments however, Harry had to reluctantly admit defeat, as he didn't have a clue what Dumbledore could be referring to, as it could be any number of things. Slowly, annoyed, Harry shook his head.

Dumbledore chuckled, he must have correctly interpreted Harry's mood. "Well then, Harry, let me enlighten you in regards to something I'm sure you already know, but perhaps underestimate the importance of. Magic is based not on wand movements and incantations, though they certainly do play a role. Magic, Harry, as I am sure you well know, is based on intent."

Harry nodded, as he had told people the same thing in the past, though he clearly never understood the importance of the statement. "A witch or wizard who has gained a true mastery of their magic in many scenarios has no need for wand movements or incantations. If one has truly mastered their magic, in certain scenarios neither are required, as ones intent can be enough to make ones magic react. If you do not believe me, think of any and every bout of accidental magic you ever had as a child. I am willing to bet that every single one of them aided you in one way or another to better a situation you were in. Now, why is that? Because consciously or subconsciously, you willed it to happen. You intended on making the scenario more favourable for you, so your magic made it so. Another example would be in duelling. I could point my wand at you right now and say Expelliarmus, which should…" He trailed off, clearly wanting Harry to fill in the blank.

"Disarm me." He said, not missing a beat.

"Very good." Said Dumbledore. "I could say Expelliarmus, but leave you unconscious by thinking of the incantation for the stunning spell-"

"Stupefy." Said Harry, filling in the blank before Dumbledore could leave him one, thinking as he did so of the duel with Nott Sr. where he had done just that, said one incantation and used a completely different spell.

"Yes. I could make this happen by willing it to. What does this prove, Harry?"

"That the intent is more important than the incantation, because in that scenario the intent took precedent."

"Precisely." Said Dumbledore. "To get back on track, for Transfiguration, as I'm sure you are aware, pointing your wand and saying an incantation isn't enough. You must truly envision the change. It is believed that by sixth year, students should have a true grasp on this concept. As for conjurations, the stage of visualization is even more essential. The final reason for this is that the stage of visualization blends well with non verbal magic in terms of teaching, which also isn't started until the sixth year."

"Now, conjurations. The first step is visualization. You need a near perfect image of whatever it is you wish to conjure. What we will be starting with is birds. The species does not matter, though I would suggest you start with something simple. Crows perhaps." Harry nodded, closing his eyes and pulling up a clear image of one such crow. "Have your image?" Harry nodded. "Good, now for the harder bit. You need to reach inside of yourself and find your magic. Focus hard on your body, every sensation, eventually, you'll feel an almost tingly sensation that seems to come from right beneath your skin. Once you've found that, just point your wand, there is no wand movement, and say Avis."

Harry practiced for quite the time before finally, he pulled it off, sending a handful of crows soaring out of his wand, causing Dumbledore to clap appreciatively before vanishing them with a swish of his wand. They continued this for some time, before Harry's success rate was at about 50%. "Very good," said Dumbledore eventually, causing Harry to halt in his efforts. "I think that is enough for tonight. I know that to you it will likely seem as if we have not made much progress at all tonight. But considering the fact that we are covering a branch of magic that is completely new to you, I think you performed most admirably. It should also be mentioned that conjuring inanimate objects is far easier, so by starting with animals, we are tackling the most difficult branch of conjuration straight off the top. Now, I would like you to continue your practices of the three shields, with a heavy focus on non verbally casting the first two. I would like you to continue the conjurations as well. Once crows become easy, increase the complexity of the bird, and I will check on you during our next lesson. Well, curfew will be upon us soon, I wish you a fond farewell."

Recognizing this as his queue to leave, Harry exited from the room, pulling the Marauders map from his pocket, and looking for the two dots that he knew belonged to the demons of Gryffindor.

 **Authors Endnote:**

 **Shorter chapter, and I'm sorry for that since it took so long to come out but it needed to be done. If it makes you feel any better, the next chapter will be the goblet chapter and it will be out next week, so the story will finally start to truly progress.**

 **So, yet another lesson from the greatest wizard alive, but now Harry is off for a new challenge. What is he cooking up alongside the demons of Gryffindor? When will it come to fruition, and will it succeed, or flop?**

 **Keep reading to find out.**

 **Next chapter: The prank is set in motion on the same night as the tournament of champions truly begins, and though Harry is hoping to give the school one hell of a surprise, he certainly wasn't expecting to be on the other end of a surprise himself, one with far crueler, and further reaching implications**

 **Please read and review.**


	17. Instant Karma

**Disclaimer: I d** **on't own Harry Potter as my name is not J.K Rowling. This unfortunately means I do this for free.**

 **Authors Note 1:**

 **I HAVE A DISCORD SERVER! I POST EARLY CHAPTERS FOR ALL OF MY STORIES ON THE SERVER. So if you would like access to early chapters, as well as general conversation, follow the link on my profile to join. Hope to see you all there!**

 **Authors Note 2:**

 **Well, the tournament is about to get under way! I know a lot of you have been looking forward to this, but not every chapter is going to be tournament centric. It's still going to be a slow building story, but it is definitely about to speed up.**

 **Authors Note 2:**

 **This originally wasn't going to be released until mid next week, but as I can't get one of my other stories out this week, I decided to release this as an attempt to apologize. Hope you guys enjoy!**

 **Authors Note 3:**

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story.**

 **Review Answers.**

 **Tyler'sPrincess: I hope you enjoy this one my friend, I am quite happy with it.**

 **ThelittleKing: I get the impression a lot of people like how I write Dumbledore. It is something that is often brought up in reviews.**

"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.'

 _French._

 _ **Memories.**_

 **Chapter 17: Instant Karma.**

"Hello gentlemen." Greeted Harry as he slipped into the alcove, joining the two red headed Gryffindors as he did so, slipping the Marauders map into his pocket as it was no longer needed.

"Harrykins." They said as one, for once keeping their voices low.

"I assume you wanted to finalize the details then?" Asked Harry, looking at them both expectantly.

They nodded. "Did you find a way past our little problem?" Asked George, eyeing Harry curiously, and with no small amount of hope in his eyes.

"I think so." Said Harry. "We won't know for sure until I try it though."

"Whatcha reckon? Night before the big announcement you'll give it a go?"

"Has to be, don't wanna screw anyone over who's trying to enter." Said Harry, causing the twins to nod.

"If you've found a way around it," said Fred thoughtfully. "that technically means we could use it to get in, couldn't we?"

Harry sighed, he had figured this would come up. "Yes, if it works, but it would be a bad idea."

"You're barking, mate." Countered Fred, shaking his head exasperatedly.

"No I'm not, listen! If we pull this thing off and then your name comes out of the bloody goblet, then everyone will know you were involved, and what's your cover going to be? They'll have you cornered."

"Can't expel me if I'm champion." Countered Fred, causing Harry to sigh.

"You're as bad as Hermione, there are worse things than getting expelled. They could convict you for tampering, just off the top of my head. Or if our little prank goes wrong, charge you with whatever the hell happens. Or-"

"Alright alright, I get your point; don't get your knickers in a twist, it was just a thought." Grumbled Fred, causing Harry to sigh in relief.

"Just not a very good one." Said George with a smirk, causing Fred to glare at him.

"You wanted in the stupid thing as bad as I did." Reminded Fred, causing George to mock bow to his twin.

"Too right you are brother dearest, too right you are."

"I dunno why you want in the thing anyways." Said Harry, thinking out loud. "I mean, you're already in the Quidditch tournament, and it seems like a lot of extra work for nothing if I'm being honest."

"For nothing?" The twins asked as one, sounding completely incredulous. "Harry, 1000 Galleons! We could start up the joke shop with that money!"

Harry scoffed. "Yeah you could, except for the fact that I already told you I'd give you the money to start it. So why risk your neck over it? I'll give you the money and you can pay me back over time. Hell, don't bother, I don't really care. Anyways, you wouldn't have time to produce anything with the tournament anyway."

"We're not taking your money, mate." Said Fred, rolling his eyes at the opening of this old argument.

"He makes a fair point though." Said George, thoughtfully, causing Fred to gawk at his twin in horror, causing George to backtrack. "Not about the money, the git can go to hell if he thinks we're taking his money, but the tournament. We really wouldn't have time, would we?"

Fred seemed to ponder the question for a moment before reluctantly shaking his head, smiling exasperatedly at Harry. "What can we say, Gred?"

"We know how to pick a business partner."

"Always go for the smart ones!"

A few nights later, a young woman lie awake in her room nestled in the corner of the immaculate carriage on the Hogwarts grounds, sitting up on her bed thoughtfully as she stared off out of the open window. A moment later, a knock came from her door, and she stood gracefully, pulling it open. " _You shouldn't be here."_ Fleur scolded her sister, causing Gabrielle to flush a bit under her sister's glare. " _It is going to be curfew in a few minutes and you're going to be stuck in my room."_

"Gee," countered Gabrielle, sliding past Fleur into the room, rolling her eyes as she did so, pulling her wand from the pocket of her robes. " _if only I could… I don't know? Conjure a mattress?"_ She waved her wand, causing a rather plush looking cot to appear in the center of the room next to Fleur's bed, making the older girl huff indignantly as Gabrielle smirked at her older sister.

" _You are impossible."_ Grumbled Fleur, causing Gabrielle to mock pout at her older sister, which only caused Fleur to glare at her in return. " _What is it, Gabrielle?"_

" _I was going to ask you that question."_ Gabrielle said softly, taking a seat on the pristine cot she had conjured, prompting Fleur to take her own seat on the bed that had originally occupied the room.

" _What do you mean?"_ Asked Fleur, sounding almost suspicious.

" _Fleur, you normally have the sleep schedule of a small child, you should have been in bed like… two hours ago."_

" _So?"_ Asked Fleur, though her cheeks flushed.

" _So, the night before the champions are selected, you can't sleep? Come on Fleur, I know that something is bothering you. Just talk to me."_

Fleur looked across at her sister, their eyes met and Fleur knew she couldn't lie to Gabrielle, it was never something she had been able to do, and now was no different. " _Fine,"_ she conceded quietly, waving her wand and putting up a privacy ward as she did so. " _I am nervous, ok. Happy?"_

" _Why would that make me happy?"_ Asked Gabrielle, looking concerned. " _What is their to be nervous about?"_

" _Oh, you know, a bit of this, a bit of that, champions being selected TOMORROW!"_

Gabrielle sighed. " _Fleur, at the end of the day it doesn't matter if you're selected as_ _champion or not, even if we all hope you will be."_

" _Doesn't matter? What do you mean it doesn't matter? It is the only reason why I came to this school! If I'm not selected I-"_

" _Can compete in the other tournament."_ Said Gabrielle, drawing a frustrated growl from Fleur.

" _You don't understand-"_

" _No,"_ said Gabrielle, crossing her arms as she stared resolutely into the eyes of her sister. " _I don't. You gain nothing from the tournament. The money is of no use to you,_ _you wouldn't even notice if it was deposited into your account."_

" _I did not enter for money."_ Scoffed the older girl. " _I entered for pride."_

" _Yes, and why would that be a big deal if you didn't get in?"_

" _Because it would be embarrassing. Putting my name forward for nothing, knowing that not only was I not the best champion, but that I wasn't even the best option for Beauxbatons-"_

" _So what?"_ Asked Gabrielle again. " _You're top of your year, you already have your career path in mind, and you have more political clout than anyone else in your class. So what if they get in a stupid tournament and you don't? Perhaps that would just be the world giving them one thing that you don't have? Don't you get it, Fleur? You are better than any other option for Beauxbatons, whether you get into the tournament or n_ ot."

Fleur thought about that for a moment before speaking softly. " _That is why I can't stand it."_ She conceded, making Gabrielle mutter "finally" under her breath, as if she had known this was it. " _I am the best option, if I am not selected I will feel as if I let_ _the school down, let myself down, let my family down."_

" _Fleur; me, mama, and papa all hope you get into the tournament, but at the end of the day, we don't really care, it isn't going to make or break our relationship, or how we think of you."_

" _But the school-"_

" _Fleur, do you or do you not think you are the best option to represent Beauxbatons as champion?"_

" _Yes."_ Answered Fleur immediately. " _I am the best in my year academically, the best_ _duelist, and most of the others would stand no chance!"_

" _Well there you go."_ Said Gabrielle matter of factly, as if that cleared everything up. " _Then why are you nervous?"_

" _I don't-"_

" _You just said exactly why we all know you're going to be selected as a champion, and you clearly believe it yourself."_

" _Yes but-"_

" _No buts! We both know what you just said is true, no one else eligible would have a chance, Fleur! The goblet will select the most worthy candidate, you just named exactly why that's you. So there, we both know you're going to be selected, you are being paranoid and stupid. The goblet doesn't care if you're half veela, nor does it care about your reputation, impartial judge, Fleur! IMPARTIAL!"_

For a moment, Gabrielle thought Fleur was going to slap her, as her jaw hung slack, and she was staring at her sister as if she had arrived from a different planet. But then she spoke in little more than a whisper. " _I am the best candidate?"_ It came out as almost a question.

" _Yes, you are."_

" _It's an impartial judge, it does not care that I am veela, or what other people think of me."_

" _No, it does not."_

For several seconds there was silence, then, Fleur spoke one last sentence. " _I'm going to be selected."_

" _Yes, you are."_ Affirmed Gabrielle, her voice leaving no doubt.

Fleur surged forwards, enveloping her younger sister in a hug that Gabrielle returned. " _I am sorry,"_ said Fleur, breaking the embrace. " _I was being stupid."_

" _It happens to the best of us."_ Said Gabrielle with a small smile.

" _I don't tell you this enough, but I love you, Gabrielle, no matter how much of a brat you can be at times."_

" _Because you have the right to call anyone a brat."_ Countered Gabrielle, though it was spoken half heartedly as she leaned forward and hugged Fleur once more. " _I love you too, Fleur. Now we should get some sleep, we will have some celebrating to do tomorrow night after all."_

Meanwhile up at the castle, a small, raven haired teen peered at the immaculate goblet, proudly on display for all to see, protected only by an age line put in place by the greatest wizard in a thousand years. He sighed, looking around to make sure he was alone before he started his task. He was, so he sighed. "Here goes nothing." He muttered, pointing his wand at the goblet as he did so.

If he would have been but a few minutes earlier, however, he would have seen a shadowy figure do the same.

The next day, Harry awoke bright and early before showering and making his way down to the common room, where he found only two people waiting for him, both of them looking at him expectantly.

"Success." He said simply, causing both boys faces to split into identical, mischievous grins as they patted Harry on the back, congratulating him on a brilliant bit of trickery.

"How'd you pull it off anyway?" Asked George, sounding curious.

"It was actually really easy,..." began Harry, but before he could finish, Hermione entered the common room, effectively putting a halt to their conversation.

"Morning." Greeted the twins in unison, sounding extremely guilty as they smiled at Hermione, causing her to narrow her eyes at the pair of them.

"What have you two done now?" Asked Hermione, sighing as she crossed her arms, seemingly prepared for the worst.

"How dare you make such insinuations?" Asked George, sounding mortified.

"We would never!" Exclaimed Fred.

"Oh, save it!" Snapped Hermione, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure I'll find out in some spectacular spectacle sooner or later." Despite themselves, the twins shot Harry identically devious smirks over Hermione's shoulder, causing Harry to nearly crack up.

A moment later, Ron came down the stairs and entered the common room. He too must have also seen the looks on the twins faces, for even he wore a suspicious look, but unlike Hermione, he knew better than to ask. "Breakfast?" He asked instead, causing Harry to nod, and lead himself, Ron and Hermione out of the common room and away from the two snickering Weasleys.

"I swear, they're going to get themselves into serious trouble one day!" Ranted Hermione.

"Doubt it." Said Harry, continuing before Hermione could interject. "Hermione, just drop it. Their pranks don't hurt anyone, it's not like they're bullying anyone, and they're not breaking any laws. They'll be fine, just leave them be."

She humphed and crossed her arms once again, remaining silent until they reached the great hall. Harry smirked as he saw the "goblet" which had been moved from its previous spot in the entrance hall into the middle of the Great Hall, resting on the three legged stool that was usually reserved for the sorting hat.

The hall itself had changed as well, as it was now Halloween. There was a vast black cloud hovering in the middle of the hall which seemed to be comprised of several dozen live bats, and the walls were adorned with pumpkins, their eyes alight like muggle jack o'lanterns. Harry also noticed that there were far more people than he was accustomed to seeing at this time, and they were from not just Hogwarts, but Beauxbatons and Durmstrang as well. The topic of discussion at every table however seemed to be the same, no matter who was discussing it; the Triwizard Tournament, and more particularly, who would be the champion of their respective schools.

Dean and Seamus, whom Harry, Ron and Hermione had chosen to sit beside were no exception. "Rumour is Warrington put his name in a few nights ago." Said Seamus. "You know, the big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."

Harry, who had played Quidditch against Warrington scrunched up his face in disgust. "I hope it's not a Slytherin." He said honestly, thinking of Draco Malfoy's gloating face if that nightmare were to become a reality.

"It won't be mate." Reassured Ron, who was piling an inhuman amount of fried egg onto his plate. "The goblet will choose the most worthy student, and there isn't one Slytherin who'd be worth a damn. The only way one of them would get picked is if old hook face was making the selection."

Harry snickered despite himself. "So who all entered anyway? I know Angelina entered the first morning the goblet was out, and I know Cedric put his name in as well, but anyone else?"

"Montague from Slytherin." Answered Dean at once, appearing to think. "Leclare from Ravenclaw-"

"She'd be alright." Commented Harry.

"Which one is she?" Asked Ron, sounding curious.

"Plays chaser for Ravenclaw, best defensive chaser at Hogwarts. A couple inches taller than average maybe, slim, brunette, on the academic team?"

"Oh!" Said Ron, the light bulb going off. "How is she at… you know, magic?"

"Well she clearly knows the theory as she's on the academic team." Said Dean.

"She's very good at it, too." Put in Hermione, who had spent the last number of weeks practicing with Lillian Leclare and the rest of the Hogwarts academics.

"She came out for duelling, too." Said Harry. "She was runner up. I found she was the second hardest opponent after Cedric if I'm being honest."

"So who do you think gets it?" Asked Ron.

"Cedric." Answered Harry, causing Ron to scoff.

"Pretty boy Diggory?" He asked incredulously.

"He's on the academic and duelling team, and is wicked in a fight. He's also athletic, as he's reserve seeker for our Quidditch team." Said Harry reasonably.

Ron muttered something about overrated before he spoke up. "What about Angelina?"

"I hope it's her." Said Harry truthfully. "But I can't see her getting it over Lillian or Cedric to be honest."

Ron sighed. "House loyalty, mate." He said.

"Sorry," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "I was answering your question."

"So, what are we going to do today?" Asked Ron once he and Hermione had finished their breakfasts.

"We haven't been down to visit Hagrid yet." Said Harry.

"Alright," responded Ron. "as long as he doesn't ask us to donate a few fingers to the Skrewts."

"I've just realized," said Hermione. "I haven't asked Hagrid to join S.P.E.W yet!"

"Drop it, Hermione." Said Harry, who had tried very hard to forget about the whole thing that Hermione had conned him and Ron into.

"No!" She retorted. "I will not drop it! I'm going to go upstairs and get the badges. Wait for me here!" And with that she was gone, bolting up the marble staircase.

"What is it with her?" Asked Ron, exasperated.

"Couldn't tell you, mate." Responded Harry.

"Hey, it's your friend." Said Ron, gesturing to a large number of Beauxbatons students entering the hall. Sure enough, Gabrielle was among them, as well as her sister… Fleur, and her friends.

"And your two dream girls." Said Harry slyly, gesturing to Fleur and Gabrielle as they approached. "Try and keep your saliva in your mouth will you?"

Ron spluttered and Harry smiled as Gabrielle and her group of friends swept up to them.

"Good morning, 'Arry." She said brightly, shooting him a mind numbing smile that seemed to make Ron freeze. Harry too felt almost dizzy, but unlike his friend, he kept his composure.

"Good morning, Gabrielle. Excited for tonight?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "I am ready for my sister to be named champion!" She said proudly, smiling at her sister.

"You put your name in then?" Ron asked Fleur, seeming to come crashing back down to earth, though his voice still sounded as if he was speaking from far away.

"Yes." She responded shortly.

"Already eaten breakfast?" Asked Gabrielle, causing Harry and Ron to both nod. "Well," she said, looking almost disapprovingly at Harry. "you likely 'aven't."

"Hey!" He protested, mock glaring at her. "Leave me alone, what have I done to you?"

"Nothing, I suppose." She answered, in not quite as jovial a tone as Harry. "Well, we will see you later 'Arry, Ron, we are going to get breakfast. Enjoy ze rest of your day."

"You too, Gabrielle, Fleur, Sophie, Sophia, Josephine."

"Bye." Put in Ron as they walked away, causing Harry to snicker. "Shut up you." He said to Harry. "We both know you want in her knickers as bad as I do!"

"OI!" Exclaimed Harry, looking affronted. "Don't put it like that! I actually really like Gabrielle as a person, not just because she's beautiful or anything like that. Besides, she's leagues above both of us anyway, so it hardly matters."

"You get on though." Said Ron, sounding wistful.

"Yeah I guess, but that still doesn't mean we're on the same planet, let alone in the same league. Hell, she could have anyone she wanted, she would never even look at me."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Said Ron, his eyes still on the spot where the French girls had turned into the great hall. A loud rattling noise from behind them announced the arrival of Hermione. "Good, let's go then." Said Ron.

As they neared Hagrid's hut, Harry saw the massive powder blue carriage in which the Beauxbatons students had arrived in parked a few hundred feet from the hut in which they were approaching.

"Must be where they sleep then." Said Ron, and Harry sincerely hoped that was an innocent question.

"Must be." He answered, and then smirked deviously, not quite being able to resist the chance to poke fun at his friend. "And no, you can't borrow my invisibility cloak tonight." The smack in the back of the head he received from Hermione, as well as the loud shouts of "OI!" from Ron were the reactions Harry received, the latter making the prior well worth it.

Moments later, Harry knocked on the front door of Hagrid's hut, Hagrid's enormous but lovable borehond Fang's booming barks were the first answer they received.

"'bout time," Said Hagrid cheerfully upon opening the door. "thought you lot had forgotten where I lived."

"We've been really busy Ha-" Started Hermione, but she stopped dead when she looked up at the man himself, apparently lost for words. Hagrid was wearing his best, and very horrible hairy brown suit. He wore an orange and yellow checkered tie, and had evidently tried to tame his long, bushy hair with large quantities of what appeared to be axle grease. His hair was now separated into two large bunches, one on each side of his head. He looked as if he may have tried to go for a ponytail like Bill's, but realized he had too much hair. The look didn't really suit Hagrid at all. Hermione, choosing not to comment cleared her throat and spoke up awkwardly. "Uh, where are the Skrewts?"

"Outback near the pumpkin patch!" Boomed Hagrid cheerfully, seeming not to notice Harry, Ron and Hermione's shocked incredulity. "They're gettin' really massive now! Only problem is they've started killin' each other."

"Oh, really?" Asked Hermione, shooting a repressive look at Ron, who had seemingly recovered enough to open his mouth, still staring at Hagrid's odd hairstyle, evidently about to say something about it.

"Yeah," said Hagrid sadly. "It's alright though, got 'em in separate containers now. Still got about twenty!"

"Well, that's lucky." Said Ron. Hagrid nodded, missing the sarcasm.

Moments later, they were all seated at Hagrid's massive wooden table, once again immersed in discussion over the Triwizard Tournament, which Hagrid seemed just as excited about as anyone else. "You wait!" He said. "You just wait! The first task, it's gonna be… well, I'm not supposed to tell yah that."

"Oh go on, Hagrid." Harry, Ron and Hermione urged him. He just shook his head at them, grinning.

"Don't wanna spoil it for ya." He said. "it's gonna be spectacular though, I"ll tell ya that! Them champions are gonna have their work cut out for 'em. Never thought I'd live to see the Triwizard Tournament played again."

They ended up spending lunch with Hagrid, though they hadn't eaten much. Hagrid had made what he claimed to be beef casserole, though after Hermione had unearthed a large tallon from hers, they rather lost their appetites. Despite this, they still managed to enjoy themselves, spending much of their time trying to convince Hagrid to tell them what tasks were to come in the tournament. By late afternoon, rain had blown in, and it was awful cozy sitting by the fire with Hagrid, listening to the pattering of raindrops on the cabin roof. Harry and Ron had got a great deal of amusement when Hermione had showed Hagrid her S.P.E.W badges and asked him to join, something that Hagrid absolutely refused to do.

"It would be doin' 'em a great unkindness, Hermione." He said gravely, threading a massive needle with thick yellow yarn. "It's in their nature to look after humans. It what they like doin', see? It would just make 'em unhappy if ya took away their work. An' insult 'em if yeh tried to pay 'em."

"But Harry set Dobby free and he was over the moon about it." Said Hermione. "And we heard he's asking for wages now."

"Oh yeah, yeh get weirdos in every breed. I'm not saying' there isn't the odd elf who would take freedom, but you'll never persuade most of 'em to do it. No, no, nothin' doin', Hermione." Hermione looked very cross indeed, and stuffed her box of badges back into her pocket.

By half past five it was getting dark and Harry, Ron and Hermione decided they best be getting up to the school for the Halloween feast, and more importantly, the selection of the school champions.

"I'll come with yeh." Said Hagrid. "Just give us a minute." He stood, went to the chest of drawers beside his bed and began to search inside it. They didn't pay too much attention until a truly horrible smell reached their nostrils. Coughing, Ron said. "Hagrid, what is that?"

"Huh?" Said Hagrid, turning around with a large bottle in his hand. "Oh, yeh don' like it?"

"Uh, odor cologne." He muttered, blushing. "Maybe it's a bit much.." He said gruffly. "I'll go take it off, hang on." He walked out of the cabin and they saw him washing himself vigorously in the water barrel outside the window.

"Odor cologne? Hagrid?" Asked Hermione. "Hagrid?"

"And what's with the hair? And the suit?" Added Harry.

"Look," said Ron, pointing out of the window. Hagrid had just straightened up and turned around. If Hagrid had been blushing before, it was nothing to what he was doing now. Carefully so that Hagrid wouldn't spot them, Harry, Ron and Hermione peered through the window and saw that Madam Maxime and the Beauxbatons students had just exited their carriage, clearly about to head to the feast, too. They couldn't hear what Hagrid was saying, but he was talking to Madam Maxime with a rapt, misty eyed expression they had only seen once before, when he had looked at his pet dragon Norbert, whom he had owned three years earlier.

"He's going up to the castle with her!" Said Hermione indignantly. "I thought he was waiting for us." Without so much as a backwards glance at the cabin, Hagrid was trudging up to the castle with Madam Maxime, the Beauxbatons students trailing in their wake; jogging to keep up with their enormous strides.

"He fancies her." Said Ron incredulously. "Well, if they end up having children, it'll be setting the world record. Bet any baby of theirs would weight about a ton." They let themselves out of the cabin and shut the door, it was surprisingly dark outside. Drawing their cloaks more closely around them, they set off up the sloping lawns.

"Ew, look!" Said Hermione, pointing to the Durmstrang contingent who seemed to be making their way up to the castle, causing the Beauxbatons students to pause as they were essentially cut off, something that seemed to greatly displease Madam Maxime, though she said nothing.

"'Ello again." Said Gabrielle, as Harry, Ron and Hermione joined the Beauxbatons group. They received several dirty looks from some older students, some of the ones directed at Harry were particularly venomous. In light of this, Harry made to slip away and out of the group, making to gesture apologetically to Gabrielle, but before he could do that, she stopped him by wrapping her arm around his shoulders, allowing her hand to rest just to the left of his chest. This motion by Gabrielle seemed to signify that they were with her, and though the dirty looks did not stop, they certainly became less apparent. "Don't worry about zem, it's my fault not yours, more company is always welcome."

"How is it your fault?" Asked Harry, not nearly as uncomfortable with this position as the thought he might be, though being pressed so tightly up against the taller girl was doing odd things to his mind.

"I will explain it to you some ozer time." She said. "It is, 'ow do you Brits say? A long story."

"Fair enough." Said Harry as their group started moving once more, Gabrielle's arm remaining in its position around him. "Is Fleur nervous?" He asked, as the other girl was walking a bit ahead of them, closer to Madam Maxime and Hagrid.

"Yes," answered Gabrielle. "though she 'ides it well." Hermione had engaged Josephine in conversation off to their side, and she seemed to be trying to talk the girl around about elves. The other girl seemed too kind to disagree with her outright, but clearly was not going to shift her views. "What is she talking about?" Gabrielle asked him softly, seeming to have picked up on a small bit of their conversation.

"A bunch of rubbish about house elves." He said exasperatedly, causing Gabrielle to quirk an eyebrow at him as they neared the front entrance of the castle. "Long story short, she thinks they're slaves and wants to free all of them."

Gabrielle gaped at him, as if waiting for him to say he was joking, and when he didn't, she shook her head slowly. "I am taking it by your reaction you know as well as I do 'ow foolish zat is?"

"Yeah, I do." Admitted Harry, casting an exasperated side glance at Hermione, who was now trying to get a very awkward looking Ron to back her up. "But once Hermione sets her mind on something, you're hard pressed to get her off of it. She also doesn't really believe me since I don't have elves, and the limited exposure I've had to elves was dealing with one who was a little… um, eccentric." Gabrielle looked at him curiously but he shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He said darkly, only causing her curiosity to peak, but she sensed he was going to elaborate no further.

"I'll explain it to 'er sometime." Gabrielle promised, smiling at the relieved look on Harry's face. "I see where she's coming from if she is muggle born, but I've grown up with 'ouse elves in the plural, so she should take what I say a bit more seriously."

"I hope so." Said Harry. "But I wouldn't subject myself to that argument if I were you."

"Is zat a challenge?" Asked Gabrielle, smiling almost deviously at him as the front of their group made their way through the large oak doors and into the entrance hall.

Harry laughed. "I'll give you ten galleons, or whatever you guys use in France if you can convince her."

Gabrielle smiled knowingly at him. "You're on, Monsieur Potter, and for your information, galleons are a universal currency. So yes, we also use zem."

"Good to know." said Harry as they entered the entrance hall. "Hey, listen Gabrielle, I've got to run up to my dorm and get something quickly. I'll see you at the feast. Tell Fleur good luck from me."

Gabrielle shot Harry an almost Hermione-esque suspicious look before removing her arm from around his shoulders. Immediately Harry darted for the stairs, knowing he had to get the last piece of the puzzle that was the prank set up by him and the twins. When he was out of eyeshot from the rest of the students, Harry threw on his invisibility cloak, making his way up to the fat lady before giving the password and scrambling up to his dorm. There, he cancelled the privacy charms he had placed on his trunk and opened it, pulling from within it the elaborate cup that Dumbledore had christened as the Goblet of Fire.

 **Flashback to the Previous Night.**

 _ **Meanwhile up at the castle, a small, raven haired teen peered at the immaculate goblet, proudly on display for all to see, protected only by an age line put in place by the greatest wizard in a thousand years. He sighed, looking around to make sure he was alone before he started his task, he was, so he sighed. "Here goes nothing." He muttered, pointing his wand at the goblet as he did so.**_

 _ **If he would have been but a few minutes earlier, however, he would have seen a shadowy figure do the same.**_

 _ **Pointing his wand at the goblet itself, Harry swished and flicked his wand, causing it to lift up off of its pedestal and slowly drift towards him, floating straight out of Dumbledore's age line. "I can't believe it would've been this easy to get my name into it if I wanted to." Muttered Harry, taking the goblet into his hands gingerly, before gently putting it into his bottomless bag before pulling out the exact replica that Fred and George had made with a duplication charm, though Harry, and he alone knew that it was not the same, and on top of that, there were some rather… interesting additions to the new version.**_

 _ **Smiling, he levitated the new goblet onto the pedestal before sighing and making his way back up to his dorm, satisfied with his work for the night.**_

 **End Flashback**

Minutes later, Harry made his way back into the Great Hall, the goblet hidden within his bottomless bag, though he knew it wouldn't be for too much longer, as the games were set to begin soon enough.

"Where did you get off to?" Asked Ron as Harry slid into the seat between him and Hermione.

"Needed the lu." Lied Harry easily, causing Ron to nod and Hermione to look suspiciously at him before glancing towards the twins who she had caught staring at Harry from a few seats down the table.

Harry glanced around the hall. It was full to the brim, and decorated more elaborately than Harry had ever seen it. The Goblet of Fire, or what everyone believed to be the Goblet of Fire had been moved to the center of the teachers table, resting right in front of Dumbledore.

"I hope it's Angelina." Said Ron a bit tensely.

"So do I." Agreed Hermione. "Well, we'll soon know."

The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps it was because it was already their third feast of the year, but Harry couldn't say he fancied the immaculate display of food as much as he normally would. Like everyone else in the Great Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on everyone's faces, and the number of people who stood to see if Dumbledore was done eating yet, Harry just wanted to see the plates clear; though he knew he had more reasons than the rest.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state, and Harry caught the queue from Fred out of the corner of his eye, and odd motion in the air with a knife. Harry sighed, bent beneath the table and removed the goblet from his bag, though he quickly hid it under his invisibility cloak before anyone else could notice, something that he remarkably pulled off successfully.

The sharp upswing of noise in the hall died almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet, and on either side of him, Professor Karkarof and Madam Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students, Mr. Crouch however looked completely uninterested, almost bored. "Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision. I estimate it will take only one more minute. Now, when the champions names are called-" But Dumbledore never got to finish his speech, as Harry had caught Fred's eye and gave a subtle thumbs down, the signal to begin. He saw Fred take out his wand and mutter something, and immediately, all hell broke loose.

The goblet in front of Dumbledore erupted, shooting its contents, which seconds earlier had looked like flames into the sky. Now, they seemed to be fireworks, but as they exploded in the air, dust like particles began to fall. One of the Beauxbatons girls screamed as their robes were immediately turned to black, and was adorned with a very familiar coat of arms, which represented Hogwarts. All around the hall, the same was happening, until every Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students wore identical Hogwarts robes, even the professors were affected, as Harry knew the spell would take effect on anyone not wearing black robes, the standard Hogwarts dress code.

A second later, Harry realized George must have put his bit into motion, as the goblet erupted yet again, this time shooting green, yellow, blue, and scarlet fireworks into the air. These, much like the first, were no ordinary fireworks however, as they took the shape of a serpent, a badger, an eagle, and a lion. All four animals streaked around the hall, causing general chaos for several moments before finally, they fizzled out of existence; but not before performing a perfect rendition of a muggle tap dance ritual, and blowing raspberries at the Slytherin and Ravenclaw table, sound effects and all.

There was still one more phase though, as Harry flicked his own wand from under the table, muttering "New Marauders" under his breath, causing the goblet to shoot golden fire into the air, which quickly snaked together to form words, which hung, emblazoned in the air.

 _Hogwarts rules, the rest drool._

 _Sincerely,_

 _New Marauders._

For several moments no one moved, everyone either screaming, in the case of many of the Beauxbatons girls, or frozen, in the case of everyone else. Seeing his queue, Harry pulled the cloak off of the goblet and muttered the switching spell he had practiced diligently, causing the goblet in front of Dumbledore to vanish for several seconds, causing much of the hall to gasp, before another appeared in front of him, the other appearing, though no one knew it, under the Gryffindor table, where it was quickly hid under the invisibility cloak.

Then, all at once, the Hogwarts students burst into applause, some of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs even going as far as to cheer, before moments later, the chant "New Marauders" rang through the Great Hall. Harry chanced a glance up at the staff table, where the reactions seemed quite varied. Flitwick, Sprout, McGonagall, and several others were pale, seeming horrified at the reference to the old group that had caused them so much misery for so many years. Snape, Maxime, Crouch and Karkaroff looked livid. Hagrid, Hooch and Bagman were laughing openly, and even Dumbledore, despite himself was chuckling.

"BLOODY BRILLIANT!" Screamed Ron from beside Harry, applauding with the rest of the hall as tears of mirth filled his eyes. Hermione also applauded despite herself, but she shot rather suspicious glances towards Harry and the twins. Almost subconsciously, Harry glanced over towards the Beauxbatons table, seeking out Gabrielle. His eyes found her easily, she was looking around the hall, her eyes wide with wonder before they locked on Harry's and they stared at each other for several moments before Gabrielle smiled at him, her eyes dancing with mirth as she turned back to her peers and began laughing along with the Hogwarts students.

This all went on for several moments, before Dumbledore fired off around of cannon blasts from the end of his wand, silencing the still rawkus crowd. "Well," said Dumbledore, scanning the new goblet with a number of detection spells to check its validity. "it appears congratulations are in order."

"Congratulations?" Asked a furious Maxime.

"Indeed." Said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling brighter than Harry had ever seen them.

"But Dumbledore, this is-this is-"

"An incredible bit of magic in so many ways." Finished Dumbledore, causing Maxime to simply gape at him, seeming to have no words to express her fury. "And a rather amusing bit of magic as well, I may add." He said. Seeing that Maxime was going to cut in, Dumbledore stopped her. "My dear Olympe, no one was harmed, there was no harm done in the end, and as I said, it was a rather spectacular bit of magic. If it is the bias in the prank you are worried about, I am sure your students uniforms will return to normal in due course, and the bias was only natural, as it was clearly a Hogwarts student who performed it." His eyes twinkled again. "If you are so affronted, you may conduct your own investigation, but I will not be taking the liberty of conducting one myself, nor will my staff."

Maxime looked as if she may press the issue, but at that moment the goblet began to glow more brightly than anything in the hall, the white blue flames almost painfully bright on the eyes. At this, Dumbledore gave a long sweep of his wand, causing all of the torches and candles to be punched into darkness, leaving the hall to be illuminated only by the goblet itself. "When the names are dispensed, I would ask the champions each rise and come to the front of the hall, before exiting through the door behind me, where you will all be given your first instructions."

"Any second." Lee Jordan whispered, two seats down from Harry, as the atmosphere in the room grew so tense it was near unbearable.

The flames within the goblet suddenly turned red again, sparks began to fly from it. A second later, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment attached to it; the whole room gasped. Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arms length so he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read in a strong, clear voice. "will be Viktor Krum!"

"No surprise there!" Shouted Ron as a storm of applause swept the hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up towards Dumbledore. He turned right, walked down the staff table, and disappeared through the door to the next chamber.

"Bravo Viktor!" Boomed Karkaroff so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "I knew that you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down, and everyone's attention returned to the goblet, which seconds later turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," announced Dumbledore. "is Fleur Delacour!"

"It's your crush, Ron." Harry told Ron as Gabrielle's sister got gracefully to her feet, hugging Gabrielle, who had leapt to her feet as well, before shaking back her sheet of silvery blonde hair and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Harry paused as he felt a wave of euphoria run through him, causing his face to split into an almost manic grin; and to his horror, he felt as if he could cry with glee and… pride? 'What is going on?' He thought as he pulled his emotions back under control, though he still could not wipe the smile off of his face. Why was he so happy for a girl he didn't even know?

"Oh look, they're almost all disappointed." Hermione said, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. 'Disappointed is a bit of an understatement.' thought Harry. A few of the girls who had not been selected had broken into tears, and were now sobbing with their heads on their arms.

When Fleur Delacour too vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again; but this time it was silence so thick with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion was next. The goblet of fire turned red once more, and flames shot out of it, high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called. "is Cedric Diggory!"

"No!" Said Ron, loudly, as Harry said. "Told you!" But no one heard either of them except the other, as the uproar from the next table was too great. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly as he headed off towards the chamber behind the teachers table.

Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on for so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again. "Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as the rest of the tumault died down. "So, we now have our champions. I'm sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you contribute in a very real-"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking and it was apparent to everyone what had distracted him. The goblet had turned red again and the flames shot once again into the air, and born upon them were yet another piece of parchment. Automatically it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hand, and everyone else stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out,

"Harry Potter."

 **Authors Endnote:**

 **Well, no one can complain about a short chapter this week!**

 **A bit nervous as to how this one will go over, as it was such an important one, but not to pat myself on the back or anything, but I am quite happy with how the chapter turned out, so I hope you all enjoyed it.**

 **Let me know what you think via review.**

 **Next chapter: The aftermath of an event so shocking it will shake Hogwarts, as well as a young, raven haired boy to his core. Who will stand against him? Will anyone stand with him? And how will he be able to bear the fury of those who once adored him?**

 **Please read and review.**


	18. The Fourth Champion

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, as I'm sure you all know. It's the property of JKR, therefore she makes money off of her works, not me.**

 **Authors Note 1:**

 **Ok, so this isn't going to be a story that's super heavy on bashing. In the next few chapters it may look like I'm bashing a few characters, but it will all work out in the end, so please don't accuse me of doing so.**

 **Authors Note 3:**

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story.**

 **Review Answers.**

 **H-hr-unite: Yes, if I wanted a boring, mediocre story that starts the same way they all do than yes, I could have. I think you are merely impatient and are not looking at the bigger picture.**

 **Alterbliss: For now it has been done intentionally, as for your last comment, I won't give too much away, but stay tuned.**

 **NakedGrizz: Harry will explain himself in full, just not yet.**

"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.'

 _French._

 _ **Memories.**_

 **Chapter 18: The Fourth Champion.**

Harry sat there, aware that every head in the Great Hall had turned to look at him. He was stunned, no; he was surely dreaming or hadn't heard correctly. There was no applause, a buzzing, thought of angry bees started to fill the hall. Soon students were standing up to get a better view of Harry who sat still frozen in his seat. Up at the high table, Professor McGonagall had gotten to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Headmaster Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore who bent his ear towards her, frowning slightly.

Harry turned to Ron and Hermione. Beyond them he saw the long Gryffindor table all watching him, open mouthed. "I didn't put my name in." Harry said blankly. "You know I didn't." Both of them stared just as blankly back.

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall. "Harry Potter!" He called again. "Harry, up here if you please."

"Go on." Hermione whispered, giving him a slight push. Harry stood, stumbling slightly and set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. It seemed an immensely long distance. He could feel hundreds and hundreds of eyes upon him as if they were a search light. The buzzing grew louder and louder. After what seemed like an hour, he was right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon him.

"Well, through the door, Harry." Said Dumbledore, who wasn't smiling. Harry moved off along the teachers table, Hagrid was seated right at the end. He did not wink at Harry, or wave, or give any of his normal signs of greeting, he looked completely astonished and stared at Harry as he passed like everybody else.

Harry went through the door at the end of the table and found himself in a smaller room lined with paintings of witches and wizards. There was a fire roaring merrily in front of him. The faces of the witches and wizards turned to look at him as he entered. He saw a wizened witch flitter out of her picture and into the one next to her, which was of a wizard with a walrus moustache; the wizened witch started whispering in his ear.

Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire; they looked strangely impressive silhouetted against the flames. Krum, sallow and brooding was leaning against the mantle piece, apart from the other two. Cedric stood with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Fleur Delacour turned around when Harry entered and through back her sheet of silvery blonde hair. "What iz it?" She asked. "Do zey want us back in ze hall?"

She thought he had come to deliver a message. Harry didn't know how to explain what had happened. He just stood there, looking at the three champions; it struck him how very tall all of them were. There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him and Ludo Bagman entered the room, taking Harry by the arm and led him towards the others. "Extraordinary." He muttered, squeezing Harry's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary. Gentlemen, lady," he added approaching the fire and addressing the other three. "may I introduce to you, incredible as it may seem, the FOURTH Triwizard Champion."

Krum straightened up, his surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry. Cedric looked nonplussed; he looked from Harry to Bagman and back again, as though he must have misheard what Bagman had just said. Fleur Delacour however just tossed her hair, smiling. "Oh, very funny joke Mr. Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No no, not at all. Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire."

Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly, Cedric was still looking politely bewildered, Fleur frowned. "But evidently zere 'as been a mistake." She said to Bagman. "'e can not compete, 'e iz too young."

"Well, uh, it is amazing," Said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "but as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's just come out of the goblet, I don't think there can be any ducking out of this at this stage. It's down in the rules, you're obliged. Harry will just have to do the best he c-"

At that moment, the door behind them opened once more, and a large group of people came in. Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madam Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Harry heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall before Professor McGonagall closed the door. Harry looked to Dumbledore, desperate for a way out of this, but his heart filled with dread when he noticed that the famous twinkle that was seemingly forever present within the headmaster's eyes was noticeably absent, and it was at that moment that Harry knew this was not going to go the way he had hoped for.

"Harry Potter!"

The name had rung through the great hall, leaving behind a feeling of shock, disbelief, and in many cases, anger. Such was the general consensus at the Ravenclaw table, especially amongst a majority of the Beauxbatons students, many of whom head legitimately tried to gain entry to the tournament, only to have been turned down by the hallowed Goblet.

One blonde at the Ravenclaw table was going through her own wave of emotions though, that being Gabrielle Delacour. As her mouth fell open as she saw the pale form of Harry Potter climb to his feet and make his way towards the antichamber her sister had vanished into not five minutes earlier.

She knew at once that something was terribly wrong, for as soon as Dumbledore had called out his name, she instinctively focused on the bond which she shared with the boy in question. Instead of finding thrill, joy, or even relief over the bond, Gabrielle felt a tidal wave of emotions that could be called polar opposites to the ones that she had expected. Shock, disbelief, incredulity, and even a bit of something that she had never felt over the bond flooded her senses… fear.

It was far from the dominant emotion, which was clearly a mixture of the first three, but it was certainly there. And that was all she needed to know that something had gone wrong, just like she had known moments earlier through the same connection just who had rigged the fake Goblet of Fire, and who had executed the prank that had turned the robes she wore from blue to black, and sent the Hogwarts members of the crowd into fits of celebratory hysteria.

" _How?"_ Breathed Sophie, seeming completely awestruck at the situation, her ocean blue eyes fixed on the small raven haired boy who was now standing directly in front of his headmaster.

" _Well,_ " spoke up Zoe, one of Fleur's friends from the year above them. " _it is obvious isn't it? He obviously cheated his way into the tournament."_

" _No he didn't."_ Said Gabrielle softly, her pale blue eyes following Harry as he made his way into the small antichamber. She had not spoken loudly, but it had gotten the attention of everyone around her.

Zoe scoffed at her. " _Of course he did! How else did his name come out of the goblet?"_

" _I don't know."_ Admitted Gabrielle, louder and with more defiance. " _But I know he didn't put his name in the goblet."_

Zoe scoffed once more. " _Are you really defending your little boyfriend over your sister Gabrielle? Is it so hard to believe you were wrong about him? That he cheated his way into the tournament?"_

" _He isn't my boyfriend, Zoe."_ Said Gabrielle. " _I've been single for the better part of a year as you well know. And considering how an age line works, yes, I would say it is pretty hard to believe."_

" _What does it matter about the age line?"_ Retorted the older girl. " _The goblet's protections clearly were not perfect based on the prank."_ She said this last bit while wrinkling her nose, looking down at the new, Hogwarts styled robes that adorned her.

" _I never said they were, but an age line wouldn't stop an older student from touching the goblet would it?"_ She found herself slightly perplexed at how defensive she was of Harry, even knowing that he had indeed found a way past the age line, even if she knew he hadn't exploited it to enter the tournament. " _An age line tracks your magical signature, Zoe. There is no way Harry could have gotten around that, absolutely no way."_

" _He could have had an older student put his name in."_ Countered Marie.

" _He wouldn't."_ Argued Gabrielle, though she didn't really have anything to disprove the theory, at least not without revealing a lot of information about her bond with Harry that she had no intention of revealing.

" _How do you know? You are biased, you fancy him."_

" _I know because anyone who has talked to him for more than five minutes would know! The boy is painfully modest and treats attention like the plague! Just compliment him on something and see how he reacts. That should be proof enough for you."_

" _But again, you are biased."_

" _She's right."_ Said Sophie from beside Gabrielle quietly. Gabrielle couldn't help but snap her head around to look at her best friend, her sheet of silvery blonde hair whipping through the air as she did so. Sophie was extremely intelligent, and a beautiful person once one got to know her, but normally she was extremely quiet, even shy around anyone who wasn't herself, Sophia, Josephine, and to an extent, Fleur. So now, Gabrielle couldn't fathom why she was disagreeing with one of the most popular girls in school, defending a boy who she personally hadn't said more than ten words to. " _He would never do anything that would gain him this kind of attention, and I don't think he would want in the tournament anyway, as he doesn't have anywhere near the confidence in himself he's going to need to get through it, and he was already saying how busy he was with Quidditch, classes and duelling."_

" _To get through it?"_ Asked Zoe, who seemed to have completely ignored the rest of Sophie's statement. " _What do you mean get through it? They won't let him compete, he's what… thirteen?"_

" _Fourteen, and he won't have a choice."_ Said Sophie, causing Gabrielle to stiffen as the same truth crashed down upon her, and she couldn't help but worry for the boy who had found himself in such an impossible predicament.

" _What do you mean he? Madame Maxime-"_

" _Won't be able to do anything about it."_ Interjected Gabrielle, her voice shaking with the revelation, causing her close friends to eye her worriedly, though Zoe, along with everyone else hadn't seem to have noticed. " _Your selection by the Goblet of Fire serves as a magically binding contract. There is no way of breaking it without Harry losing his magic, or possibly his life."_

At this, the table fell dead silent, as everyone seemed to have caught up to the same conclusion, though Gabrielle had a sneaking suspicion that a few of them thought that either would have been a fair price for what they viewed as felony.

"Madame Maxime." Said Fleur immediately upon noticing the presence of the new arrivals, striding up to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zis little boy is to compete also?"

Somewhere under Harry's waves of disbelief, he felt a ripple of anger. 'Little boy?'

Madam Maxime had straightened herself to her full, considerable height, the top of her handsome head brushing the candle filled chandelier as her gigantic black satin bosom swelled. "What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbledore?" She said imperiously.

"I would rather like to know myself, Dumbledore." Said Karkaroff, who was wearing a furious scowl, his blue eyes like chips of ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school were allowed two champions. Or have I read the rules correctly enough?" He gave a short and nasty laugh.

"Simply impossible." Said Madam Maxime, who's enormous hand with its many spectacular opals for fingers resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts can not 'ave two champions, it iz most unjust."

"We were under the impression that your age line would keep out younger contestants Dumbledore." Said Karkaroff, his scowl still in place though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise we would have brought a wide selection of other candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff." Scoffed Snape, who's black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He hasbeen crossing lines ever since he arrived here."

"Thank you, Severus." Said Dumbledore firmly and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his greasy black hair. Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who was looking back at him, trying to discern the expression in the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles. "Were you, in any way responsible for tonight's pre selection fiasco, Harry?" Asked Dumbledore. "You will not be punished for your answer, but please answer honestly." He added.

Harry hesitated, but figured at the present, honesty would likely be his best policy. "Yes sir, I was." Said Harry, causing Snape to mutter under his breath and Maxime to flush red as Karkaroff's eyes merely grew colder still.

"And, in that bout of mischief, did you, by any chance, find a way of getting around the age line which I put in place? Perhaps in order to tamper with, or even swap out the Goblet of Fire?"

"Uh… yes sir, I did."

Maxime went to cut in, but Dumbledore silenced her with a look and turned back to Harry. "How did you achieve this?" He asked, sounding genuinely interested.

"Well, I didn't get past it, sir. You see, I… uh… levitated the goblet out of the perimeter of the age line."

Dumbledore sighed and nodded, scratching his chin thoughtfully as he spoke again. "Well then, I suppose it lucky that nothing worse than the prank took place."

"Nossing worse!" Boomed Madam Maxime, now clearly furious. "Dumbledore, an underage student stands right in front of you! One who has admitted to beating your age line and getting into ze tournament."

"Harry has not admitted to entering the tournament, nor do I believe he did so." Dumbledore's voice was quiet, but harder than Harry had ever heard it as he turned back to look down at him. "Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" He asked calmly.

"No." Said Harry, he was very aware of everyone watching him closely. Snape made a noise of impatient disbelief from the shadows.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?"

"No!" Said Harry vehemently.

"But of course 'e iz lying!" Cried Madam Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

"I do not believe Harry put his name into the Goblet of Fire." Repeated Dumbledore, louder this time.

"But he has admitted to tampering with the goblet!" Protested Karkaroff.

"Precisely why I take him at his word, Igor." Replied Dumbledore, still as calm as ever. "If Harry here were guilty, I do not believe he would have admitted to the mischief, nor do I believe he would have used the goblet in a prank had he put his name into it, as a potential investigation could have implicated his guilt and intentions."

"But this is all hear say, Dumbledore!" Spat Karkaroff, his cool demeanour beginning to show some cracks. "Of course you will support the boy! It does nothing but benefit you and your school-"

"I don't think Harry put his name into the goblet either." Said a soft voice from near the fire, causing everyone to turn towards the speaker, only to see the handsome face of Cedric Diggory staring politely but defiantly up at Karkaroff and Maxime before glancing at Harry and returning his gaze to the adults. "I don't believe he did it, and it sure as hell affects me, and say what you want about him being fourteen, but he is a legitimate contender in this tournament, and may very well win the whole thing." When Cedric saw the disbelieving faces he sighed. "Come off it, he went unbeaten in our qualifying rounds for duelling, I know from experience he is as fierce a competitor as one can be," he paused, before shooting Harry an almost calculating look before he continued. "and if even half of what they say about him is true, then he should be the odds on favourite, not the consensus underdog." And with that proclamation, Cedric stepped forward until he was standing beside Harry, his arms crossed as he continued to glare at the adults.

Harry stood there beside Cedric, stunned as he openly gaped at the boy, unable to comprehend where that all had come from, or why it had come at all.

"Mr. Crouch, Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his once more unctuous voice bringing Harry back to the present as he refocused on the still ongoing conversation pertaining to his fate. "you are our… objective judges. Surely you will agree this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden by shadow. He looked a bit eerie in the darkness, looking much older as his face took on an almost skull like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual, curt voice. "We must follow the rules. The rules state clearly that those whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire must compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front." Said Bagman.

"And that is before we consider the harsh repercussions such an action would have on Mr. Potter if he were to withdraw." Said Crouch darkly.

Bagman paled at that statement, but valiantly turned to Maxime and Karkaroff, beaming as if the matter was now closed.

"I must insist on submitting the names of the rest of my students." Said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now, his face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions! It is only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that." Said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out, and it's not going to reignite until the start of the next tournament."

"In which Durmstrang will certainly not be competing!" Exploded Karkaroff. "After all of our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I never expected something of this nature. I have half a mind to leave now-"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff." Growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now, he's got to compete, they've all got to compete. Binding magical contract like Dumbledore said. Convenient huh?" Moody had just entered the room, he limped towards the fire, with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.

"Convenient? I am afraid I do not understand, Moody."

Harry could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice but his hands gave him away, they were balled into fists.

"Don't ya? It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name into that goblet, knowing that he'd have to compete if it came out."

"Evidently someone who wished to give Hogwarts two bites at the apple." Said Madam Maxime.

"I quite agree, Madam Maxime." Said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards-"

"If anyone's got a reason to complain it's Potter!" Growled Moody. "But, the funny thing is, I don't hear him saying a word!"

"Why should 'e complain?" Said Fleur Delacour, stomping her foot. "'e 'as got ze chance to compete 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks. Ze 'onour for our schools, a thousand galleons of prize money. Zis is somessing many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter IS going to die for it." Said Moody with the merest trace of a growl. An extremely tense silence followed these words.

Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed bounced forwards on the balls of his feet and said. "Wow, Moody old man, what a thing to say."

"We all know Professor Moody thinks the morning wasted if he has not discovered six plots to murder him by lunch time." Said Karkaroff loudly. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to feel that way as well. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons."

"Imagining things am I?" Growled Moody. "Seeing things am I? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put that boy's name in the goblet."

"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" Asked Madam Maxime, throwing up her huge hands.

"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object." Said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally powerful Confundus charm to convince that goblet to forget that only three schools compete in the tournament. I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school. Wanted to make sure he was the only one in his category."

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody." Said Karkaroff coldly. "And a very ingenious theory it is. Although of course I heard that you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents was a cleverly disguised basilisk egg so you smashed it to pieces, only to realize that it was a carriage clock. So you will understand if we don't take you seriously."

"There are those who will turn innocent occasions to their advantage." Said Moody dangerously. "It's my job to think the way dark wizards do, Karkaroff, as you ought to remember."

"Alastor." Said Dumbledore warningly. For a moment, Harry wondered who Dumbledore was speaking to, but then realized "Mad Eye" could hardly be Moody's first name. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction; Karkaroff's face was burning. "How this situation arose we do not know." Said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems although however, we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the tournament, which they will both do."

"Ah, but Dumbledore-"

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative I would be delighted to hear it." Dumbledore waited but Madame Maxine did not speak, she merely glared; she wasn't the only one either, Snape looked furious, Karkaroff livid, Bagman however, looked cheerful.

"Shall we get cracking then?" He asked, rubbing his hands together. "Gotta give our champions their instructions haven't we? Barty, wanna do the honours?"

Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep revery. "Yes," he said. "instructions, the first task." He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harry thought he looked ill, there were dark shadows under his eyes and a thin papery look to his wrinkled skin that had not been there during the Quidditch World Cup. "The first task is designed to test your daring." He told Cedric, Harry, Fleur and Viktor. "So we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard, very important. The first task will take place on November 24th in front of the other students and a panel of judges. The champions are not permitted to ask nor accept any help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks during the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information on the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end of year tests." Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that's all, is it not, Albus?"

"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr. Crouch with mild concern. "are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"No, Dumbledore, I need to get back to the Ministry. It's been a very difficult time at the moment. I've left young Weatherby in charge. Very enthusiastic, too enthusiastic if truth be told.

"You'll come and have a drink before you go at least?"

"Come on, Barty, I'm staying." Said Bagman. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now. Much more exciting here than at the office."

"I think not, Ludo." Said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.

"Professor Karkaroff, Madam Maxime, a nightcap?" But Madam Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. Harry could hear them talking very fast in French as they went off into the great hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they too exited, though in silence.

"Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go off to bed." He said, smiling at both of them. "I'm sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a great disservice to them to deprive them of this excellent chance to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Harry nodded to Cedric and they left together.

When they exited the chamber, they found that the Great Hall was now completely empty. As they began to cross it, their footsteps noticeably echoing off of the ornate walls, Cedric finally broke the silence. "So, we're competing against each other again."

"I guess so." Answered Harry, not really knowing how else to respond to that. After a moment more silence, Harry took his turn to break the ice. "Thanks, by the way."

Cedric merely raised an eyebrow, looking confused. "What for?" He asked.

"For sticking up for me back there, if anyone has the right to be furious about this, it's you."

Cedric shrugged. "I know you didn't put your name in the goblet, so I can't really be upset about it; that would hardly be fair."

"You actually believe I didn't put my name in then?" Asked Harry, sounding mildly hopeful.

"Of course I do." Responded Cedric. "Anyone who does is daft or doesn't know you." Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized that he had been holding as Cedric shot him a calculating look before speaking again, sounding more cautious now. "If the rumours about you are true though, I think my chances at this thing may have just been dashed."

Harry stiffened a bit, but gave no other sign of reaction to Cedric's words. "What rumours?" Asked Harry, as they neared the hall's exit, Harry stopped, prompting Cedric to do the same, if this was going to be something that was discussed, it would be in private.

"Bit of this, bit of that." Cedric answered nervously.

"That hardly helps me give you an answer." Noted Harry, causing Cedric to shuffle.

"The rumours that say you killed Slytherin's monster in your second year, or fought off a hundred dementors and a werewolf last year. Or," he lowered his voice, leaning in as though not to be overheard, "killed Quirrell to stop him from helping You-Know-Who?"

Harry froze. He knew that the school knew of his adventures to some extent, but he hadn't realized how close they were to the truth, and he certainly didn't know that some thought he was a murderer. "I didn't kill Quirrell." He said, which was true, as it was Voldemort leaving his body that had finished off the professor, not Harry or his mother's protection.

"I didn't think that one was true." Said Cedric, sounding relieved. "You were in the hospital during that last match that year though, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I was." Answered Harry reluctantly. He sighed. "Look, Cedric. Don't believe everything they say about me. I won't lie to you and say that everything is made up, because we both know when it comes to the Hogwarts rumour mill where there's smoke, there's usually fire. But none of those rumours are overly accurate either, even if they have the odd thing right. And I have no idea how you expect me to beat you in this tournament."

Cedric gave Harry a long look before speaking again. "You sell yourself short, Harry, it seems to be a habit of yours. Don't go into this tournament just trying to get through it; go in trying to win, because you might just surprise yourself and pull it off." Cedric stepped past Harry and made for the exit. "I've got to be off," he said. "my housemates are going to kill me if I keep them waiting too long. I suggest you do the same." And he was gone.

Harry composed his thoughts for a moment before following, wondering if he had given away too much, because for some reason Cedric was giving him the odd feeling he sometimes got around Dumbledore; the feeling that the other boy knew, or at least suspected a lot more than he was letting on.

Harry sighed, figuring he should get to his common room and embrace the inevitable chaos. He did not make it very far though, as when he opened the door to leave the hall he froze, finding his path impeded not by a ghost, a teacher, or worse yet Filch, but by a tall, beautiful blonde, with a rather intense look that screamed of jumbled emotions. A girl who's blue eyes seemed to shine as she saw Harry, and without saying a word, stepped forward, taking his arm as she did so and dragging him back into the hall from which he had just exited.

 **Authors Endnote:**

 **I know there was a lot of canon rehash in this chapter, but it had to be done, and as you can see next chapter will be starting off with a completely original event.**

 **So, our young hero will have no choice but to compete in the tournament of champions, but how will he compete with three older, most experienced opponents. Plus, how will the young saviour react when those who should stand with him choose to oppose him? And how will his life change when he is embraced by a new circle of companions?**

 **Keep reading to find out!**

 **Next chapter: An intense discussion gives Harry some hope, but it is quickly doused by the crushing feelings of loneliness and betrayal. Just as our saviour seems to be down and out however, a helping hand is extended, and he is pulled into a circle which he never thought he would ever be a part of.**

 **Please read and review.**


	19. Trust

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, it all belongs to J.K Rowling.**

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 **Authors Note 1:**

 **Wow! This story just hit 1000 followers and I'm kind of in shock to be honest. I've never had a story hit 1k before it's completion, so this is kind of special for me. I never actually realized how many followers or favourites this had until I saw that it hit 1k; I hadn't checked in a couple of months so I was blown away! Thank you guys so much for all of the support on this story! I never expected a self fulfillment fic to take off the way it did!**

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 **Authors Note 2:**

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story.**

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 **Review Answers.**

 **Doc Junior: Writing all of Harry's different characterizations in my stories is definitely interesting. It can be difficult at times, but it is very rewarding. As for the contract and why he can't just have someone else sign for him, I always just kind of assumed that his name coming out of the goblet substituted for his signature; hence why when it comes out, he's screwed.**

 **Tyler'sPrincess: Their support will certainly be important, more than you could ever imagine.**

 **Gustusyu: Your wish is my command:)**

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"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.'

 **Parseltongue.**

 _French/In Story Text._

 _ **Memories.**_

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 **Chapter 19: Trust.**

Harry didn't even have time to react as Gabrielle took him by the arm and led him back into the Great Hall. He was too shocked, both at her appearance in the hall as well as the look in her eyes to resist, and judging by the pain in his arm from the strength in which she gripped it, strength that took Harry very much aback, he would have been unable to even if he had desired to.

Before he knew it they were back in the hall, and Gabrielle released his arm before turning on her heel and drawing her wand. In a flourish, numerous jets of light flew from Gabrielle's wand. Other movements made no visible difference, but Harry could feel the magic in the air. Harry didn't interrupt her, as the intensity that was seemingly radiating off of her gave him pause. Her sister was in the tournament, her own flesh and blood; did Gabrielle think Harry had cheated to enter the tournament? And by extension, did she think that Harry was screwing over her sister?

For a moment, Harry considered drawing his wand in case a fight broke out, but for some reason he found he couldn't do it. Even if Gabrielle were to launch herself at him with vicious intent, Harry thought it would have been hard for him to force himself to raise his wand to stop her; the very thought of cursing Gabrielle did not sit well with him.

Finally, the taller girl stopped her casting and to Harry's mild relief she slipped her wand back up her sleeve, which was still black instead of blue, another thing that only served to make Harry all the more nervous with the situation at hand.

Harry expected a lot of things; for her to yell at him, for her to question him, hell, even for her to attack him. What he did not expect, however, was for her to practically lunge forward and wrap her arms tightly around him. Again, Harry, someone who normally despised being touched found it odd how he had no reaction but to lean into the girl who held him tightly against her body, his mental exhaustion suddenly overwhelming as his head rested against her shoulder. They stood like this for several seconds, with Harry not wanting to break the embrace, and Gabrielle seeming to be equally content with the position. After several moments however, she leaned down, still not breaking the embrace and whispered softly into his ear. "Are you ok?"

Harry felt surprise overcome his feeling of contentment. Brought back to reality, Harry peered up at Gabrielle confused. "You're not mad at me?" He asked, to which she merely frowned.

"Why would I be mad at you?" She asked him, her eyebrow raising in question as she peered at Harry questioningly.

"Well — me being in the tournament. Well, I mean, I won't win or anything, but it doesn't really help your sisters odds does it?" He spoke a bit apprehensively, fearing Gabrielle's reaction, but she merely continued to look bewildered.

"'Ow could I be upset wiss you when you didn't put your name into ze goblet?" She asked, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

At this, Harry felt some hope flood his senses. Maybe Fleur and the heads were only exceptions; maybe the majority would see reason. "You don't think I put my name in?" He asked, unable to keep the hope from his voice.

Gabrielle shook her head. "I know you didn't put your name into ze goblet 'Arry." The conviction with which Gabrielle spoke surprised Harry, even as he felt a wave of relief and gratitude wash over him in equal measure.

"How?" He asked cautiously, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Gabrielle paused, as if deciding whether or not to say something. For a split second, Harry could have sworn he saw a calculating look in her eyes, but a second later it had passed. "Because I know you." She eventually said, pulling him a bit closer to her once more. "I know you wouldn't put your name into ze goblet, even though I know you are capable of it. You do not want ze attention, and you seem more zan busy enough with ozer ssings."

Harry felt relief crash through him once more as he smiled gratefully at her, sighing deeply as he allowed himself to sink into her embrace once more. "Your sister begs to differ." He said softly, barely loud enough for Gabrielle to hear.

Gabrielle sighed. "I am not overly surprised." She said with a sigh. "I love Fleur, but she can be narrow minded at times. In 'er defence though, she doesn't know you, not really."

"Maxime and Karkaroff didn't believe me either, but I suppose they have an agenda to follow."

Gabrielle nodded. "If zey did believe you, zey would pretend otherwise." She said, confirming his suspicions. Her face than turned serious. "So, someone put your name into ze goblet zen?"

"I guess so." Said Harry, finally stepping back as Gabrielle let go of him, a calculating look now on her face for real.

"Can you ssink of any reason someone would want to put your name into ze goblet?" Asked Gabrielle.

'To kill me.' Was the first thought that crossed Harry's mind, but though he trusted Gabrielle, it wasn't really something he wanted to explain. 'I mean,' he thought a bit bitterly. 'who would believe me even if I told them.' "No idea." He lied, feeling mildly guilty about it.

Gabrielle frowned. "You don't ssink anyone just wanted to give you a chance?"

"Doubt it." He said. "Anyone who would've done something like that for me knows I wanted nothing to do with the tournament." Harry looked at her critically, she was frowning deeply. "You have a suspicion?" He asked her, curious.

"I may." She answered vaguely. "Well, if somebody wanted Hogwarts to 'ave ze best chance possible, perhaps zey may 'ave put your name forward in an effort to give 'ogwarts anozer champion."

Harry sighed and shook his head. "Gabrielle, why on earth would anyone put in the name of a fourth year? I mean there are far better-"

"'Arry, spare me, please." Said Gabrielle sternly, causing Harry to falter as it was a tone he had never heard from the girl before. "You are on ze Hogwarts duelling team." She reminded him before her calculating look returned, more prevalent than ever now. "And it seems as if you 'ave 'ad quite ze adventures as well." She said, making Harry wince as she was clearly referencing the conversation he had been having with Cedric.

"How much of that did you hear?" Asked Harry cautiously.

"Most of it I suspect." Said Gabrielle, blushing a bit at being caught eavesdropping. "I didn't mean to listen in." She said, becoming a bit defensive. "I was waiting for you, and you were 'aving the conversation right next to ze door."

"It's fine." Said Harry, a bit tensely. "I would appreciate it if you kept that to yourself though. Nobody is supposed to know about any of it."

"So it's true zen?" Asked Gabrielle, unable to contain her curiosity.

"Which part?" Asked Harry carefully.

"Salazar Slysserin really did 'ide a monster at 'ogwarts all zose years ago?"

"Yes." Said Harry, a bit shortly, looking more tired than Gabrielle had ever seen him.

"And ze chamber? Was zat part true as well?"

Harry hesitated for a moment before he nodded, almost solemnly.

"And you fought 'is monster and won?" Asked Gabrielle, causing Harry to hesitantly nod once more. "What was it?" Asked Gabrielle, becoming a bit aware of Harry's discomfort with this line of questioning.

"Gabrielle," he said, sounding much like her father after a long night of work when he was an auror, a fact that surprised Gabrielle greatly. "you wouldn't believe me if I told you." He finished bluntly.

Gabrielle felt a bit annoyed at this. She wanted to know more about Harry, she wanted to help him, but he kept shutting her out. Didn't he see she cared? Why didn't he trust her? She sighed, mentally ready to take the plunge, she had to built his trust somehow. "Try me!" She said fiercely, the tone of her voice clearly surprising Harry as he took a slight step back, only prompting Gabrielle to take a longer step forward, putting them very close again, though not touching. It suddenly struck Gabrielle how much taller she was than him, how he had to look up at her, and how he seemed small, even compared to those of his year. Despite that though, she was almost shocked at the intensity shining through his eyes, but beyond that it was the look of them. She had seen that look before, the look her father got when he spoke of particularly horrific missions. It was the look of someone who had seen far too much, and Gabrielle knew now that whatever he chose to tell her about the Chamber of Secrets, she believed him; for that was not the look of a liar, it was the look of a man haunted by far too many truths.

For a second, Harry hesitated and Gabrielle was sure he wouldn't tell her. Hell, Harry didn't think he would tell her. How could he just come out and say this? But he had already dove into the deep end, there was no escape now, and it would be the ultimate test of their friendship. "A basilisk." He answered softly, causing Gabrielle's eyes to widen almost comically at his words, a look of shock now plastered upon her angelic features.

Harry was sure she would laugh, or call him a liar, or an attention seeker or something else. She shocked him again however when she spoke softly, stepping even closer to him, close enough so that their bodies were touching one another. "'Ow did you beat it?"

Harry's head snapped up at the question, his eyes widening as rapidly as hers had only seconds earlier. "You-you actually believe me?" He asked, sounding at a complete and utter loss.

In response, Gabrielle wrapped her arms around him once more, she did not hold him as close this time, nor as tightly, it was merely a gesture of affirmation, a confirmation of her sincerity as she spoke, just as softly as he had. "Yes 'Arry, I believe you." And he could tell, from the way she spoke, and the way she squeezed him gently as the words came from her mouth that she did.

"Dumb luck." He said in answer to her previous question, causing her to frown. He shook his head at her raised eyebrow. "Gabrielle, you really wouldn't-"

"Don't tell me I wouldn't believe you!" She snapped, causing him to flinch at the severity of her tone, something she noted, bringing it down a bit as she stepped back from him choosing instead to gently cup his chin and force him to look up into her eyes. "'Arry, you are many ssings, but a liar is not one of zem. Zere are very few ssings zat you could possibly tell me zat I would not believe. And most of zem 'ave to do wiss yourself as a person, so please, spare me. Eizer tell me or don't, but don't use that silly excuse, it does not apply to me."

He seemed to hesitate once more for a moment before Gabrielle felt his jaw tighten against her palm and he spoke. "I stabbed it in the mouth with a sword. It had its eyes gouged out earlier in the fight by a phoenix."

Gabrielle's mouth fell open for a second before she closed it. It sounded impossible, and there was definitely a part of her brain, the logical part perhaps, that was telling her that was ridiculous, and that she should call his bluff. Despite that though, the majority of her knew that as impossible as it sounded, he was telling the truth. As before, the truth was written in his eyes, the same haunted look mixed with one of nervous apprehension, as if he was pleading with her to believe him. She could feel it too, the same feelings inside of her, feelings that she knew were not her own. Finally she spoke. "Zat is incredible." She said softly, causing Harry's eyes to widen once more in surprise as she stepped back from him again. Then, something else clicked. "A phoenix?" She asked, causing Harry to nod, looking nervous again. "It was a phoenix who brought you ze 'at. You called it, "old friend" I believe. Is zat-"

"Yes." Said Harry quietly. "His name is Fawkes, he's Dumbledore's. And I honestly don't have enough time to explain how a phoenix fighting a basilisk with me became possible." He hesitated. "If you want to know, I'll tell you, just not right now."

Gabrielle smiled despite herself. "You 'ave quite ze impressive list of adventures, Monsieur Potter." Said Gabrielle, shaking her head incredulously as she let the revelations sink in.

Harry smiled almost shyly at her. "Trust me, I know." They stood in silence for several moments before Harry broke the silence with a question of his own. "So you think someone put my name into the goblet to give Hogwarts a second chance?"

Gabrielle shrugged. "Unless you 'ave a better idea. It makes sense at least."

"I still don't think they'd pick me." Said Harry. "Sure, I'm on the duelling team, but there's more to this tournament then duelling. And with the exception of two other students, nobody knew about the chamber or anything until tonight. I'm pretty sure most of the school view me as average, maybe slightly better."

"I highly doubt zat." Gabrielle said exasperatedly, but chose not to argue with him. "Eizer way, we know zat someone put your name into ze Goblet of Fire. You're sure you can't ssink of anyone who would do zat?"

"Nobody who could actually pull it off." Harry answered, half honestly. Could Voldemort find a way to get his name into the goblet? "A boy in my year would probably do it, hoping I got hurt in the tasks, but he definitely doesn't have the brains to do it. His father would love to see me hurt in this thing, but he hasn't been at Hogwarts since the end of my second year, so I think we can rule him out."

Gabrielle had the distinct impression that he wasn't telling her everything. More than that, she felt as if Harry knew exactly who had put his name into the goblet but was afraid to tell her. "Enough about ze goblet." Said Gabrielle. "It doesn't really matter in ze end; what's done is done. 'Ow are you? I know you didn't want in ze tournament, and it is meant for sixss and sevenss years."

Harry shrugged. "I'm not looking forward to it, and I think if someone put my name in hoping I'd get hurt, they'll probably get their wish-"

"Don't say zat!" Gabrielle scolded, causing Harry to shrug.

"It's true, but anyways, like you said, not much I can do now is there?"

"Zey did not find you a way out zen?" Asked Gabrielle, knowing the answer even before she had asked it.

"No." Said Harry, his voice definitely bitter. "Binding magical contract and all that. No, I'm stuck in the stupid thing now, no way around it."

"I'm sorry." Said Gabrielle sincerely. She wished she could take his place. She could see how badly he wanted nothing to do with the tournament and she wanted to alleviate the burden, forgetting for a moment that it would mean she would be competing directly against her older sister.

Harry sighed. "You have nothing to apologize for. I don't think you put my name into the goblet. Not unless you're either the best actor in the world, or I'm way more gullible than I think I am, which I suppose is a possibility." He mused, drawing a small smile from Gabrielle despite herself.

"You always manage to do zat." Said Gabrielle quietly.

"Do what?" Asked Harry, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Make me smile or laugh no matter what ze situation is; like zat day when your newspaper slandered you."

Harry shrugged. "Fred and George are better at it than me, but I've picked up some tricks in my time with them I guess."

"You refuse to give yourself credit in absolutely every area possible, don't you?" Asked Gabrielle, not able to hold back the question.

Harry blushed a bit and hesitated before speaking, seeming to look for the best way to escape the question. "So, your sister is in the tournament?"

Gabrielle pursed her lips, not at all fooled by the switch of conversation but she decided to let it slide. "Yes." She answered.

"Are you nervous?" Asked Harry. "You know, with the history of it and all?"

"Yes." Gabrielle answered honestly. "For boss of you." She added, causing Harry to blush once more as he felt a strange but pleasant warmth spread outwards from his chest. "I am excited for Fleur though. She 'as wanted to prove 'erself for years, and she 'as 'ad good reason to want to. Now, she finally 'as 'er opportunity."

Harry nodded. "Do you think she'll do well?" He asked.

"Are you trying to use me to scout my sister?" She asked, a perfect brow raised in question as a playful smirk graced her lips.

"And what if I am?" Asked Harry, raising his own eyebrow in challenge.

"Zen I am afraid I will 'ave to hold my tongue." Said Gabrielle, her smile widening as Harry blushed yet again. He was far too easy, Sophia would have a hay day with him if they ever had a long conversation. Looking absentmindedly around the hall, Gabrielle spotted a clock on the wall and stiffened a bit at the time. "Merde." She said, causing Harry to look questioningly at her, clearly wanting the translation, something she was not going to give him. "Don't worry about it." She told him. "I'm guessing I'm not lucky enough for zat clock to be wrong?"

Harry looked backwards over his shoulder towards the clock on the wall and winced. "Afraid not." He answered.

She sighed. "I am finished. Nearly an hour past curfew. Madame will probably be waiting for me at ze carriage, and zat'll be ze least of my worries if she activates ze alarms."

"Alarms?" Asked Harry, perplexed.

"Zere is an alarm system of sorts charmed into our carriage." Gabrielle explained. "If someone steps out of zeir room after curfew or enters ze 'alls from ze outside, Madame is alerted. I ssink it's a caterwauling charm-"

"A what, sorry?" Asked Harry, having never heard of the obscure bit of magic.

"A caterwauling charm." Said Gabrielle, going into a Hermione like lecture mode. "It is a charm zat when put in place, will cause an almost deafening scream if triggered."

"I'm taking it stepping out into the hall after curfew would trigger it?" Asked Harry.

"Yes." Answered Gabrielle. "So far, she 'asn't activated it though. It was only a precaution put in place in case anyone abused curfew; so far, no one 'as." She sighed. "Zat won't 'elp me if Madame Maxime is waiting outside of ze carriage though."

Harry knew what he was going to do in an instant. It didn't even cross his mind not to do it, despite all of the logistical issues that it could cause. Without a word, he walked swiftly towards the Gryffindor table where he had sat before his selection of champion before bending down and pulling out his bag and cloak from under the table. The former he slung over his shoulder, the latter he held up proudly as he walked towards Gabrielle. "Well, since I caused you to be so late, I may as well make sure you don't get caught for it."

She frowned. "'Ow are you going to do zat?"

He smirked, and without a second's hesitation, he threw the cloak over himself, disappearing completely and causing Gabrielle to gasp, jumping back in shock. "An invisibility cloak?" She breathed out, hardly daring to believe it.

Harry couldn't help but laugh softly as he removed the cloak from around his shoulders, smiling mischievously at her. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't go around telling people I had it." He said seriously. "Including your friends if you don't mind. There are like… five, maybe six students in the school aside from me who know I have it, and I'm pretty sure only two teachers, one of whom is Dumbledore."

"Can-can I see it?" Asked Gabrielle, tentatively reaching out a hand for the cloak. Harry smiled and handed it to her, watching as she wrapped the fabric around her hand, watching it vanish before draping the cloak over her arm, watching it to disappear completely. "Zis is incredible." She said, holding it up more closely to the light. "It seems rasser old though." She noted, examining it more closely than he or his friends ever had.

Harry shrugged. "I guess, it used to be my father's. I got it in-"

"Wait, what?" Asked Gabrielle sharply, looking at Harry with skepticism for the first time.

He was confused. "Yeah, it was my dad's when he was in school. Him and his friends used to use it all the time for pranks and stuff."

"Zat shouldn't be possible." Said Gabrielle, sounding as if she were speaking more to herself than to Harry.

"What do you mean?" Asked Harry, confused.

"You never looked into invisibility cloaks, did you?" Asked Gabrielle, sounding very much as if she knew the answer already.

"Uh, no I didn't." Admitted Harry, blushing. "This one just always worked so I thought-"

"It doesn't matter." Said Gabrielle, waving her hand dismissively. "Ze point I was making is zat ze best invisibility cloaks zat money can buy are advertised to last for about ten years, and zat is a rasser generous advertisement; seven or so is usually more accurate."

Harry's jaw fell open at the revelation. "I don't know this for sure, but it was implied that the cloak has been in my family for generations. How is that possible then?"

"Like I said, it shouldn't be." Said Gabrielle, looking truly stumped for the first time since Harry had met her. After a moment, the blonde girl shook her head. "It doesn't matter really, just curious I guess."

Harry studied her, he could tell it bothered her more than she was letting on, but he decided to let the topic drop. "Er, ok. Should we go then?" He asked, beckoning to the doors. Gabrielle nodded, stepping towards him with the cloak still in hand, intent on draping it over the both of them. "Uh, we should fit, but it'll be a bit tight. I can just pick it up tomorrow if you don't want-"

"Hush." Said Gabrielle, stepping closer to him and throwing the cloak over the both of them. It was indeed a bit cramped, but not as much so as when he, Ron and Hermione all fit under the cloak together. "If I took ze cloak, you would have no way of getting back to your common room wissout getting caught yourself." Gabrielle pointed out. "I will not take your 'elp if it means you risk getting caught yourself."

Harry stood there, still for a moment with surprise. He didn't know why Gabrielle continued to surprise him, she had been nothing but kind, compassionate and understanding so far, so he didn't know why those traits continued to surprise him. "I-ok." He said, as they began to move towards the doors out of the Great Hall.

Harry felt a bit uncomfortable as they moved towards the large oak doors that led out to the grounds in silence. His and Gabrielle's bodies were pressed rather closely together, and his shoulder kept bumping up against a rather awkward area. Despite this though, Gabrielle never said anything, that was until they exited the doors and entered the grounds. "You need to learn to ssink for yourself." She said, snapping him back to reality.

"What?" He asked, pulling himself from far different thoughts.

"You need to learn to ssink for yourself." She repeated. "It is incredible 'ow considerate you are to zose around you, but I'm starting to ssink that zese decisions sometimes impact you negatively."

"Not really." Said Harry. "They usually work out."

"For now perhaps." Said Gabrielle, falling silent once more as they came ever closer to the Beauxbatons carriage. "Merde." She said once more as they got closer, causing Harry to look at her under the cloak. "Madame seems to be waiting out front for me." She said, gesturing to the hulking figure standing in front of the carriages only entrance.

"Of course she is." Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. That was his luck, he should have let her go alone, maybe she'd have had better luck without him. He thought for a moment, thinking of a way past the giantess in the doorway. After a moment of thinking though, he realized that much like the twins with the goblet he was thinking about it wrong. He couldn't get past her directly, so he needed to find a way around her, much like how he had done with the protections. "Where is your room?" Asked Harry, scanning the carriage closely.

Gabrielle pursed her lips. "From ze outside I am not completely sure. It is one of ze one's nearest the lake. Why?"

"Well, you have to get in somehow, and we're not getting past her." Gabrielle raised an eyebrow, clearly wanting him to elaborate but he didn't, he merely led them towards the end of the carriage nearest to the lake. "See if you can figure out which room it is." Harry told her. Gabrielle still looked confused, but nodded.

"Stop." She said when they reached the end of the carriage.

"You found it?" Asked Harry, impressed.

"Not yet, but I am about to." Said Gabrielle, pulling her wand from out of her sleeve. It was the first time Harry had seen her wand up close. It was maybe a bit longer than his, but the length was not what intrigued him. It was an odd colour, a sort of pinkish gold that one would almost certainly not associate with wood.

"How?" Asked Harry a bit distractedly, trying to work out what the wood was.

"Magic." Said Gabrielle, sweeping her wand in as wide an ark around them as the cloak would allow. Harry felt something run through him and pause, almost as if some invisible force was judging him. After another moment the feeling passed, and Gabrielle slipped her wand back up her sleeve. "Zat one." She said, pointing at the window directly ahead of them.

"How do you know that?" Harry asked. "I mean, I assume it's whatever you just did, but what-"

"A detection spell to reveal human presence." She answered his unfinished question. "If you are familiar enough with ze charm, you can even tell where ze people are and are not located. That's 'ow I know which room is mine; it is ze only one with nobody inside of it."

"What's the spell?" Harry asked, intrigued by the possibilities of such a tool. "Could you-"

"Anozer time." Gabrielle said with a smile, seeing his disappointment she continued. "I promise I will show it to you, it's just zat now is not ze time." Harry brightened a bit at that and she smiled again. "Now, why was it so important to you to know which one was mine?" She asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice as she gave Harry and almost scolding glance. Then, he realized the implications of what he had asked for.

"Oh, no! Not like that, I didn't want to-I mean I-"

She was giggling now, a sound that took Harry aback as her laugh, as he had noted previously was like music. "I know you don't want to sneak into my room in ze middle of ze night." Said Gabrielle, shaking her head in amusement.

"Uh, yeah, thanks." He shook his head as if to clear it. "Well, I was going to just unlock the window and levitate you inside."

Gabrielle sighed, looking a bit put out. "It won't work." She said. "The windows are enchanted to repel the alohomora charm, so unless you know a more powerful-"

"I can get past that." Harry said, slipping out from under the cloak and crouching for cover as he dug in his bag, looking for the knife that he had been given last Christmas, his first and last gift from Sirius; a knife that could break any lock. "Got it." He said, straightening up, trying to find Gabrielle when a hand gently took his arm and guided him back under the cloak. "This will unlock it." He said without doubt. "Just run it down the groove and it will unlock. You can give it back to me tomorrow, I won't need it before then."

Gabrielle frowned. "Are you sure it will work?" She asked, sounding a bit sceptical. She had heard of these tools, but they were usually highly protected, reserved for only the highest ranking aurors and unspeakables.

"Positive." He answered, handing it to her. "I'll levitate you up to the window." He said, as her window seemed to be on what appeared to be the second floor of the massive carriage. "If you trust me of course." He added, looking a bit nervous once more.

Gabrielle laughed softly, half exasperated half amused. "Honestly," she said, slipping out from under the cloak as she gently removed the knife from his hand. "if tonight 'asn't showed you zat I trust you, I don't know what it will take."

He smiled despite himself, knowing even as he did that she couldn't see it as she stared expectantly at the spot where she knew him to be, her arms mockingly outstretched as if they were wings. Harry drew his own wand, swishing and flicking it towards her. She was hovering in front of the window a mere second later. Harry watched as she carefully unlocked the window with the knife, smiling at the look of surprise that crossed the French witches face. She took hold of the window and pulled herself through, causing Harry to cancel the levitation spell. Harry watched as she made to close the window but paused just before doing so, just long enough to shoot a dazzling smile in the general direction where she knew him to be.

Harry felt a warmth spread throughout his body that made the risk of the after curfew adventure all worth it if it hadn't been already, and he knew in that moment that he wanted to make her smile like that a lot more often.

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 **Authors Endnote:**

 **Sorry for the long delay with this one. I was travelling pretty much all of August, and was only home for something like ten days last month. I will hopefully be updating this story every couple of weeks on a consistent basis from here on out, especially since I don't foresee writers block being an issue on this one.**

 **Please read and review.**

 **Merde (French) = Shit (English)**


	20. Backlash and Betrayal

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to any of the characters or settings associated with the Harry Potter franchise and I make no profit off of the story.**

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 **Authors Note 1:**

 **If you would like to read every chapter I post on here early, for all of my stories simply join my discord server. It is a place of both early chapters as well as discussion. The alpha version of chapter 21 is live on their right now as of this chapter releasing, so if you'd like to read it a week early, copy and paste the link from my profile and substitute the portion where I .**

 **I hope to see you all there!**

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 **Authors Note 2:**

 **Chapter 20 — wow! Took a while to get here but we've arrived. Thank you guys for all of the support so far on the story, I hope it continues from here on out!**

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 **Authors Note 3:**

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story. Thank you as well to the folks on my discord server for their additional edits.**

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 **Review Answers:**

 **Tyler'sPrincess: Well, I had to get the plot rolling at some point :) Things are definitely going to start speeding up about now.**

 **theundeadgamer: Yeah, that looks right. Thanks for pointing that out, I'll eventually change all of the references to it in the past, but for now, I will just spell it the right way from here on out.**

 **NakedGrizz: It's taken a long time to build that dynamic, so I am happy you are enjoying it.**

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"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.'

 **Parseltongue.**

 _French/In Story Text._

 _ **Memories.**_

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 **Chapter 20: Backlash and Betrayal.**

Harry was in a kind of daze as he made his way back up to the castle, hidden under the cloak as he went. Gabrielle's smile did weird things to him on the best of days, but that last one had left him positively dazed. Above all else, he was just overwhelmed. He was exhausted with the nights events, frustrated with the whole thing and worried about the potential of Voldemort being behind it. Despite all of that though, Harry felt none of those things, with the exception of exhaustion, as he made his way up to the castle, entering through the large oak front doors and tracing the familiar path up to the seventh floor and the Gryffindor common room.

He couldn't help but smile as he walked, and he imagined he would look rather goofy if he had not been invisible. He didn't care, someone believed him, and not just about the goblet either; Gabrielle had believed some of his craziest stories, that, while true, he would have expected most anyone to scoff at. 'I mean,' he thought. 'I wouldn't really blame them for being sceptical over a twelve year old boy killing a basilisk.'

He was so lost in the memory of the events that followed his selection as champion that he hardly noticed as he entered the seventh floor corridor. At least not until a voice called to him from the fat lady's painting. "There he is! Someone is a champion I hear!" It was the woman from the painting in the chamber off the hall, the one who had scurried into a neighbouring painting and whispered animatedly with the grey haired wizard who had occupied the frame.

"Balderdash." Said Harry, causing the fat lady's companion to look outraged.

"It most certainly isn't!" The woman said indignantly, but the fat lady patted her companion on the shoulder.

"It's the password, Violette." She said, to which the other woman's mouth made an Oh, shape as the portrait swung open to admit Harry.

Almost immediately, Harry was assaulted by an overwhelming wall of sound as the entire common room seemed to erupt as one as they surged towards him. Harry staggered in surprise as the crowd rushed forward, reaching out to him. Everyone seemed to want to touch a part of him, something Harry, who normally was not a fan of close contact as is, was more than a little bit uncomfortable with. He didn't try to protest though, as he figured he would have had to shoot off fireworks to even have a slim chance of being heard over the roaring of the crowd. Within seconds he found himself up on the shoulders of the house, being carried into the common room. He was marched around for several minutes, as if he were some kind of trophy before mercifully, the mob allowed him to stand on his own two feet. As soon as he had touched the ground, the questions and calls began.

"If it couldn't be me, at least it's another Gryffindor!" Exclaimed Angelina Johnson jovially, beaming openly at Harry.

"When did you put your name in?"

"How did you get past the age line?"

"Did you screw with the goblet?"

"Was it you who pulled off the prank?"

"Did you set up the prank while you were putting your name in?"

"Yes Harry!"

"Atta boy, Potter!

"You little scumbag!"

This last call was not one but two voices, as a genuinely irate looking Fred and George made their way to the front of the crowd. They stood in front of Harry, their call seeming to have silenced the mob, if only for a moment as they crossed their arms in front of their chests in what Harry considered to be a very good imitation of their mother.

"We asked you if you knew a way past the age line?" Said Fred accusingly.

"No, you didn't." Said Harry, to which the twins gawked.

"We most certainly-"

"No, you didn't. You asked me to brew you an aging potion and wanted to know whether or not I thought it would work. I said it wouldn't, but you wanted me to brew it anyways. You never once asked me how to get past the age line." 'And I told you how to do it.' He added mentally, thinking of the final setup for their prank, but he obviously did not add this last bit aloud.

The twins looked a bit humbled at this, but after a moment they inclined their heads as one. "True, very true." Said Fred, nodding.

"Got us there!" Said George, jovially miming the tipping of a hat to general laughter from the crowd.

"So," came an unfamiliar voice from the crowd that seemed to draw everybody's attention at once. "how did you put your name in?"

All of a sudden the mob was silent. It was as if the function to breathe had been taken away, as not so much as a breath could be heard as every last one of them stared eagerly at Harry, waiting for his answer with bated breaths.

Harry figured the truth was going to be a huge let down, but was going to give it at any rate. "I didn't." He answered honestly, if a bit lamely.

This caused the mob to erupt again.

"Come on Harry, you can tell us, we won't tell anyone."

"Spill the beans, Potter. It's all good, we won't go ratting."

"We've got your back, Harry, you can tell us."

"You don't have to lie to us."

"Don't lie to us!"

"I'M NOT LYING!" Said Harry, who had to shout at the top of his lungs in order to be heard. "I never wanted in the tournament, you can ask these two." He said, gesturing to Fred and George. "How many times have I told you lot that I wanted nothing to do with the tournament?"

"A few." Said George.

"Dozen." Added Fred, nodding thoughtfully as he looked at Harry.

"Exactly! I didn't want in the tournament . Why would I want to compete against people way more experienced than me in a tournament I'm not even qualified to enter?"

"You did it for Quidditch!" Someone called out, and Harry immediately wanted to punch whoever had said it, as on top of the idiocy of the comparison, the vast majority of the house was now nodding in agreement.

"That was different," said Harry. "no one's died in a Hogwarts Quidditch match. I can't say the same thing about the Triwizard Tournament." At this, the crowd fell silent once more, seeming to let the full weight of Harry's last statement wash over them.

"But since when has age ever been an issue for you?" Asked an older boy. "Vanquished You-Know-Who at one, became the youngest seeker in a century at eleven, apparently killed Slytherins monster at twelve, and cast a Patronus at thirteen. It only seems right that you'd enter this one at fourteen."

"Voldemort," The name sent a shiver through the room as many of the students flinched violently. "was a one in a billion scenario that had nothing to do with my age. You've got me on the Quidditch one, I still don't understand how I just have a knack for it, but Slytherin's monster? None of you have any proof that ever even happened."

"Your best friend's sister was kidnapped," someone pointed out. "the school was going to close, you disappear for a night and when you come back, the threat has apparently passed. Dumbledore comes back, and you land us like — 400 points and get yourself a trophy for special services to the school. I'm sorry, but does that not sound a bit suspicious?"

"And I had no choice with the Patronus." Said Harry, conveniently passing over the boy's point. "I don't know about any of you, but I didn't really fancy passing out whenever I got near a dementor. Once was plenty enough, thanks." This drew a few hesitant laughs from some of the crowd. Some people nodded in agreement while others continued to look sceptical.

"Well," said George, stepping forward and wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders as he took a place beside him. "I believe him."

Fred stepped forward and did the same, standing on Harry's other side. "Say no more, Harikins, it's good enough for us!" Harry smiled tiredly, if nothing else, he had two of his best friends who believed him without much issue, and he was sure Ron and Hermione would follow suit.

The house muttered again, and the twins verdict seemed to have convinced most people as some nodded, others looked apologetic. But then, a moment later, Harry heard the last voice he ever expected to speak up against him call out from somewhere in the midst of the mob.

"Oh, all of you are so gullible!" They all turned to see who had spoken and Harry's mouth fell open, as Hermione was glaring at him. She had evidently been standing at the back of the crowd, but they had parted to allow her through.

Harry felt something kin to a dagger pierce his heart at her words. "Y-you think I put my name in the goblet?" He asked, sounding absolutely incredulous.

"Well, there's no way you didn't," is there?" Said Hermione. "The goblet wouldn't just spit out a name if no one put it in, and no one else here is admitting to putting your name in. Plus," she added, suddenly glaring at Harry. "you did tamper with the goblet, I know you did. You switched the goblets for the prank, so you clearly knew how to get around the age line." At this, whispers broke out across the common room and Harry tried to speak but couldn't, his throat seemed constricted. "Admit it,Harry, the evidence is completely against you, and the evidence never lies."

If Harry were sharper, more awake, and didn't feel as if he had just been hit in the head by a baseball bat, he may have brought up that the evidence had lied both in the case of the chamber, and in the case of Sirius audience be damned, but he didn't. He simply stared, slack jawed at Hermione as if he were seeing her for the first time.

"But y-you know I wanted nothing to do with the tournament! Since when have I ever wanted to be involved with anything like this?"

She shrugged. "The evidence never lies," she repeated. "maybe you deem it a necessary evil for a chance to test yourself? I don't know, I don't claim to know how you think." She sighed and looked at him. "Just tell the truth, Harry. This charade is getting old very quickly."

"I have been!" He thundered, causing several people to flinch and Hermione to look almost hurt.

"I thought you could at least trust me." Said Hermione shaking her head. "Well, when you're ready to tell me what really happened, come and find me. I'm off to bed." And with that, she walked straight past him and up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

Harry felt as if his world had been turned upside down. He felt empty, as if a large portion of himself had disappeared. He stared dumbstruck after Hermione as he heard the crowd stir again, sounding like angry bees buzzing as they stared at the spot Hermione had just vacated.

"Hag," muttered Fred, looking over his shoulder. "narrow minded hag she's being." Harry didn't know how he would have responded to that, a large part of him wanted to defend Hermione, but he still could not speak after her accusation. He was left dumbstruck, his whole being frozen in shock. And that was before he felt a horrible pain in his forehead. It felt as if someone had sent a powerful electric shock through his head as the room before him faded to black and he was no longer there.

Instead, he found himself sitting in a comfortable chair, looking straight ahead into the fire crackling merrily and the face inside of it, giving a rare, thin smile to the still fairly young looking face before wordlessly dismissing him with a wave of his hand. The flames flashed for a moment and the face disappeared. He smiled yet again, a victorious sort of glee filling his body as every particle of his being tingled with anticipation not felt in many long years. And then he spoke in a high, cold, horribly familiar voice. "It is done."

As soon as it had started it stopped, and Harry staggered before being caught by the twins. His head was still pounding badly, but it was bearable, if only just. The room swam in front of him for a moment, but slowly came back into focus, and Harry caught sight of the faces that had remained staring at him.

"You okay, mate?" Asked Fred in a slightly concerned sounding whisper.

"Yeah, fine, how long was I out?" He asked, just as quietly.

The twins exchanged looks. "You weren't out at all," answered George. "you just went really pale for a couple of seconds and then…" he indicated him and George. Harry pushed off of them, a little wobbly but able to stand without much issue.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Potter?" Said a voice. "Are you going to lie to us after we supported you for so long?"

This voice was shouted down by many others, many of whom were giving Harry their support, some shouted over the supporters and some were whispering about what had just happened. "I'm going up to the dorm." Harry whispered to the twins. "Distract this lot, will you?" They nodded, not even adding any theatrics to the gesture as they turned towards the crowd. As quickly as he could, standing behind the twins so he would not be seen, Harry crouched down and threw his cloak over top of him, vanishing completely from view as he made his way up the stairs and entered the dorm.

As Harry had expected, Ron was very much awake, sitting on his bed with a contemplative expression on his face. When the door opened, Ron's eyes snapped to the doorway and focused on Harry once the door had been closed and the cloak had been removed. There was a long, awkward moment of silence before Ron spoke, and Harry thought his voice sounded slightly forced, just like the small smile on his face, it almost seemed rehearsed.

"Well, congratulations I guess." He said, not giving away much from his voice.

"Thanks, I guess." Said Harry through a yawn, masking the bitterness that would have been prevalent in his voice.

"How'd you do it then?" Asked Ron, sounding a lot more interested now as he peered critically at Harry.

"Do what?" Asked Harry, taking a pair of worn, overlarge pyjamas out of his trunk.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well — get your name into the goblet. Even Fred and George couldn't do it."

Harry frowned. "I didn't." He said, causing Ron to look confused. "I didn't put my name into the goblet, someone else must've done it."

Ron shook his head slowly, smiling reassuringly at Harry. "It's ok, you can tell me the truth. I get why you don't want the others to know, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie to me. Did you use the cloak?"

Harry scowled, not believing his luck. It seemed his two best friends didn't believe him, and he didn't even have the energy to feel much more than betrayed. "The cloak wouldn't have got me across that line." He pointed out, causing Ron to yawn and nod in unison.

"No, I guess not. How'd you do it then?"

"Ron, I didn't do anything!" Said Harry, putting a strong emphasis on the last word. "I have no idea how my name got into that goblet!"

"You messed with it though." Said Ron. "Hermione and me know you and the twins did the prank, so you must have got across it somehow."

"I did do the prank," he admitted, seeing no reason to lie about it. "but I didn't put my name into the Goblet of Fire."

"I don't know why you're making such a big deal about it." Said Ron, shaking his head in apparent confusion. "No one would blame you, you know? A thousand galleons prize money, and you don't have to do end of year tests. We all get it, no one would sell you out to Dumbledore, and he believed you at any rate, didn't he? That portrait — Violette, she's already told us what happened." Ron looked at Harry. "I'm not stupid you know?"

"You're doing a really good impression of it." Harry gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Yeah?" Said Ron, and there was no trace of a grin, forced or otherwise now. "You'll want to get to bed, Harry. I expect you'll have to be up early for a photo call or something." Ron wrenched the curtains shut around his four-poster, leaving Harry standing in the entrance, looking in shock at the red curtains that now hid one of the few people he had been so sure would believe him as his world whirled in shock. The two friends he had always been able to count on seemed gone, the first ever people who had made his life worth living had seemingly turned their backs on him, all because of the stupid tournament, all because of Voldemort. He debated telling Ron about his vision, thinking maybe it would change his mind, but he didn't. He didn't want to talk to Ron right now, he didn't even want to look at him; the same thing could be said about Hermione. It would only serve as a bitter reminder of his betrayal, and right now, in the case of both of his former best friends, that thought hurt too much.

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When Harry woke up on Sunday morning, it took him a moment to remember why he felt so empty and miserable, then, the memories of the night before came flooding back to him in a rush and he let out an audible groan. He sat up, for a moment he was intent on talking to Ron, on forcing Ron to believe him. Those hopes were dashed quickly however when he noticed that Ron's bed was unoccupied, stripping Harry of that opportunity. For some reason, this only added what felt like a sense of finality to the fact that Ron had abandoned him, and Harry felt as if it was the proverbial nail in the coffin.

It took Harry a great deal longer than normal to get dressed, showered, and ready for the day. He was thankful at least that it was a weekend. That thankful air did not last long however.

After pushing his way out of the portrait hole and proceeding down to the Great Hall for a late start on breakfast, he found that the entirety of Hogwarts seemed to be waiting for him, the same could be said for Durmstrang and Beauxbatons — well, almost, in the case of the latter, as Harry did not spot Gabrielle nor any of her friends sitting with their companions, nor did he see them at any of the other three house tables. As soon as he entered the hall, a chorus of boos erupted from all sides. To his shock, even many of the Gryffindors had chosen to join in. Though he saw that Ron and Hermione were blissfully not among them, they made no move to support him or quiet the crowd, and he had noticed that they had chosen seats surrounded by other people, making it quite impossible for him to sit with them.

What happened next was perhaps the longest and most mentally draining meal of Harry's life, and after eating with the Dursleys routinely for the better part of a decade, Harry thought that was a rather bold statement. The glares he received were scathing, let alone the comments of passers by, he thought he even felt a few stinging hexes make contact. Worse still, his housemates, who he had at least expected to support him seemed almost non interested. Last night, it had seemed like a fifty-fifty split within his own house but now, mere hours later, it appeared as if none of the Gryffindors had been able to dismiss what Hermione had so ruthlessly called "evidence".

Harry made to go back to the Gryffindor common room after breakfast, but after feeling the intense glares of dozens of eyes upon him even within what was supposed to be his sanctuary while at Hogwarts, Harry rushed back out of the portrait hole, his emotions a jumble of turmoil as he went.

It felt much like his second year at Hogwarts, when seemingly everyone at the school had deemed him the Heir of Slytherin. It was worse this time though, so much worse because at least then he had the support of Ron and Hermione to lean on. Now, less than two years later, Harry felt utterly and completely alone. Sure, both Cedric and Gabrielle had believed him and though he valued them both and quite liked the latter, he had no desire to burden Gabrielle with his problems, and the idea of approaching the true Hogwarts champion about such things was laughable.

So Harry did what he had resorted to in the last number of weeks when he felt his emotions take him over… he trained.

This time though, it went on for hours. He pushed himself through dinner, working tirelessly on more and more advance conjurations as well as drilling all of the shields Dumbledore had taught him. He barely noticed when dinner had passed, and didn't notice much at all until it suddenly became much more difficult to cast a spell. He pushed through it though, determined to work the emotions out of himself, allowing Gabrielle's warning from weeks previous to slip conveniently from his mind.

Eventually, Harry found himself on his hands and knees panting, his wand clattering to the floor as his hand had cramped. He felt exhausted, more exhausted than he had felt in — he didn't even know how long.

He knew he should stand up, stand up to leave the Room of Requirement and make his way back to Gryffindor tower. He couldn't do it though. Every time Harry made to stand, his legs gave out until eventually, his body just would not respond and he gave it up as a bad job, allowing his eyes to flutter shut and finding himself drifting blissfully into the land of dreams.

When Harry awoke, it was to an odd mixture of dismay and relief. It was late, past noon kind of late, and at this rate, there was really no point in even bothering to attend classes. He was starving though, he had to go back to memories of the summer after his first year with the Dursleys to remember a time he was this hungry. He stood, still finding his legs a little shaky and reeling at the head rush that accompanied his rise, also wincing at the pain in his back, neck and shoulders after sleeping on the floor all night. He made for the door, planning on going to the Great Hall for lunch when he paused, remembering the events of the day previous, causing a wave of apprehension and dread to wash over him. Thinking better of another meal in front of the entire school, Harry stepped back, grabbing his invisibility cloak and throwing it over top of him, pulling from its pocket the trusty piece of parchment that had done him so well, muttering the activation phrase and scoping out the best route to the kitchen.

The rest of the day passed much like the one before, except the process was far less drawn out. Harry trained hard, trained like an absolute madman. Part of it was to rid himself of the dread and despair of his situation, part of it was what it always had been, the knowledge of the impending threat that was Voldemort, and the desire to avenge his fallen godfather. Whatever the motivation, it worked. Harry pushed himself harder than he ever had before, but to his dismay, he found himself fatigued far faster than the day before, as it was not yet supper time and Harry found himself already barely able to cast a lumos.

Oddly too, Harry did not feel hungry, only tired. Thinking that a nap likely wasn't a horrible idea, Harry marvelled at the room around him, which had conveniently conjured a comfortable looking bed from out of nowhere. He gawked for a moment, mentally berading himself for not thinking of it the night before. A moment later, he was slumped beneath the covers, his eyes closed and his breathing laboured.

He woke up several hours later. He made to cast a tempus, but was more than a little discouraged when nothing happened but a sharp jolt. He sighed, thinking of a clock and watching one appear. He winced, it was past twelve o'clock, and despite his rest, he still felt exhausted and really did need to make classes the next day.

Sighing, he pulled the invisibility cloak on once more, making sure he was completely and totally covered before making the track to Gryffindor tower.

He reached it easily enough, entering the common room to find it remarkably empty. The mere sight of it still caused his anxiety to rise, as the memory of Hermione backing evidence over his word fluttered painfully to the forefront of his mind. He would have liked to sleep in the Room of Requirement again, but he did not have his alarm clock there and really needed to make it to his classes. On a better night, he simply would have set a timed reaction with his wand, but in his current state he knew he'd never have managed it. He pushed the memory of the night of his selection away with all of his mental might, which in his current state, Harry admitted silently likely wasn't much. Making his way up to the dormitories he turned the doorknob — or, he tried to. It wouldn't turn, Harry tried again, and then again before realizing with a throb of further anger and betrayal that it was locked. Someone had purposely locked him out of his own dormitory, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion the perpetrator may have had flaming red hair and deep blue eyes.

He felt the same horrible tightness in his chest, feeling as though he was staring at Hermione once more. Without any better options, Harry turned on his heel and walked down the stairs back to the common room, proceeding out the portrait hole once more and back to the room from which he had came. Harry would not be at classes the next day, as he would unfortunately sleep in yet again, though he would return to the common room the following night, a little earlier this time, the door would be locked again, and for the next few days, Harry would fall into the same painful ritual of self destruction.

* * *

Gabrielle entered the Great Hall on Thursday morning with her friends Sophie, Sophia and Josephine at her side. As had become her morning ritual for the past number of days, she allowed her mesmerizing eyes to hone in on the table draped in the scarlet cloth, scanning it for a head of messy raven hair. To her dismay, much like had been the case for the last four days, Harry was absent yet again.

She glared around the hall subconsciously, knowing full well that each and every one of the Hogwarts students who had turned their backs on one of their own had played a part in him not being here.

" _Are you ok, Gabrielle?"_ Asked Sophie in French, causing Gabrielle to snap out of her frustration to answer automatically in their native language.

" _Fine, thank you, just thinking."_

As soon as she said it, Gabrielle knew that Sophie didn't believe it. She was close with all three of her best friends, but none more so than Sophie, the girl who was practically a second sister to Gabrielle in every aspect of the phrase. She suspected Sophia and Josephine also knew to some extent that her answer was not completely truthful, though she suspected that both of them underestimated the severity of her inner turmoil.

The two of them broke into conversation, Gabrielle wasn't really paying attention, her mind was still on the raven haired teen who had blown her mind with his stories not five days earlier. A moment later, she felt warm breath tickle her ear as Sophie whispered to her.

" _I know it's about him you know?"_ Gabrielle tensed, simultaneously annoyed and impressed with her friend's perceptiveness. People always underestimated Sophie, the small, quiet, seemingly shy girl who never really spoke up. Not Gabrielle though, she thought that Sophie may be the most perceptive person of her age she had ever met when it came to other people. She could read humans like textbooks, whether she knew them or not, it had always impressed Gabrielle, no time more than at present. " _You can tell me you know?"_ Her friend continued, still speaking too quietly to be overheard by the others. " _I understand why you might not want to tell the others."_ Gabrielle didn't need her to elaborate. If Sophia heard that Gabrielle was losing sleep and allowing her mind to drift over a boy, something she had for the most part avoided like the plague since her arrival at Beauxbatons more than five years previous, it was likely that she would never hear the end of it. " _I won't make fun of you."_ Said Sophie. " _I want to help you if I can._ "

Gabrielle made to politely decline when she paused. What would she tell Harry if she found him? She would likely scold him for isolating himself, likely tell him he was an idiot for trying to deal with things on his own yet again. Wouldn't that make her a bit of a hypocrite if she turned down Sophie's offer of help? It was something she was guilty of in the past, not following her own advice, something she knew she needed to improve on.

She sighed and nodded, leaning her own mouth close to Sophie's ear. " _Tonight, after dinner. I need you to distract them. Tell them I'm working on an assignment in the library and wish not to be disturbed, tell them whatever you need to. Just give me some time._ "

Gabrielle watched her friend smile kindly at her before setting her jaw and nodding, affirming her own part in Gabrielle's plan.

* * *

True to her word, Sophie came through later that night, asking if Josephine and Sophia would accompany her to the restroom after dinner. Gabrielle conveniently cited an urgent need to finish her homework and quickly slipped away, not before shooting Sophie a grateful smile, one which the smaller girl returned with an encouraging air to it.

Gabrielle searched the castle for what felt like hours. In reality, she was pretty sure it had been hours. She encountered several students along the way, all of them stating the same "we haven't seen him all week" response when she asked them as to Harry's where abouts.

Vaguely, Gabrielle thought of Harry's cloak, realizing that he could be standing right in front of her and she would never know it. She shook her head, quickly dismissing the possibility. It wasn't as if Harry would hide under the cloak for a week and she liked to think that he wouldn't hide from her. She looked what felt like everywhere except the dungeons. She raised her wand and casted tempus non verbally. It was passed ten o'clock, and therefore curfew had passed. She cursed to herself, supposing that she would have to have Harry sneak her back to the carriage when she was finished telling him off for being an idiot.

She searched the dungeons next, as it was the only place she hadn't searched thus far. This unfortunately had the inconvenient byproduct of her getting lost, as she had not the foggiest idea where she was going within their depths. She found herself in a bit of a panic as she tried to find her way out of the dungeon. 'I just want to find Harry.' She thought. 'Why does this have to be so difficult, why does no one know where he is.'

She paused, taking a deep breath as she gathered her thoughts, trying to send out a prayer to magic itself to get her out of this mess. As if on queue, she heard an eerie yet breathtaking tune fill the near black corridor where she stood, far beneath even the Slytherin common rooms. She turned, drawing her wand in preparation for a threat that never came. There was a swooshing sound, and out of the darkness swept a breathtaking creature she had seen once before, one she even knew the name of.

"Fawkes?" She breathed out in disbelief. The phoenix gazed at her appraisingly for a moment, its beady eyes sharpening before it gave a slow, rhythmic nod. "Why are you 'ere?" She asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. As if in answer, the phoenix bobbed its head towards her, as if to say "you're the one who asked for me." She hesitated. "Y-you're 'ere to 'elp me?" The bird didn't react, and then, a moment later, Gabrielle realized why it was here. "You're 'ere to 'elp 'arry?" Fawkes seemed to evaluate her once more before slowly, ever so slowly, he nodded. "C-can you help me find him?"

The bird ruffled its feathers, almost in an amused or possibly even an offended gesture before it hesitated one final time and stuck its tail towards Gabrielle. This time it was her who hesitated for a moment, deciding how much trust she had for the clearly intelligent creature. In the end, she decided that whatever happened, it couldn't be much worse than the present. She reached out a hand and as gently as she could took hold of the immaculate tail feathers. She saw the world around her go red as they disappeared in a flash of fire.

A moment later, both her and the phoenix were in a room Gabrielle had never seen before. It was a well lit room with a door on one wall, leading Merlin only knew where and a line of dummies on the opposite wall. In the center of the room, looking very out of place was a standard, king sized bed. Gabrielle's breath caught in her throat a moment later when she saw what was even more out of place. Lying ten feet from the bed, curled in an awkward position, clearly asleep and as pale as a ghost was the boy who no one in Hogwarts had seen for the better part of a week.

* * *

 **Authors Endnote:**

 **A bit of a depressing chapter, so I felt as if I should end it hear on a positive note. I debated extending the chapter to make it quite long — like, 10k words or more kind of long but I thought better of it. I haven't updated this story in awhile and figured you guys probably just wanted content ASAP. There should be chapters out for this story weekly for the next two weeks, as both of the next two chapters are already written.**

 **Please read and review.**


	21. Recovery and Return

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This fanfiction is based on the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to any of it, nor do I make any profit.**

* * *

 **Authors Note 1:**

 **And the dam begins to show some cracks. I imagine many of you will enjoy this one.**

* * *

 **Authors Note 2:**

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story.**

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 **Review Answers:**

 **Devilsummoner666: The phoenix scene is no coincidence, though you will have to be VERY patient for an explanation; likely won't come until book 2.**

 **NakedGrizz: I am intentionally vague a lot of the time, it gives me some lenience and is rather boring to write about repeatedly. I will cover his lessons with Dumbledore and his major training breakthroughs, but the latter will be done mostly through summaries.**

 **Shadow: A rather harsh outlook. I will spoil nothing about Harry's connection to Voldemort as it will inevitably play a large roll in the story. As for Ron and Hermione, I try not to bash characters, if I do, I definitely try to keep it on the low.**

* * *

"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.'

 **Parseltongue.**

 _French/In Story Text._

 _ **Memories.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 21: Recovery and Return.**

Gabrielle stood stock still for several seconds, peering down at the boy laying at her feet. He looked awful. He was curled in on himself and was as pale as any spector she had seen walking the halls of Hogwarts. His glasses were askew and he looked very much as if he had fallen asleep before he had been able to get into the bed. A moment later, her heart stopped when she didn't hear him breathing. Quickly she knelt down, gently taking his wrist. There was a pulse, it was actually normal and a moment later she realized that he was indeed breathing, it was just slow and laboured.

She looked at the great phoenix which nodded to her in a way that she almost thought was meant to be encouraging before it vanished with yet another flash of fire.

Gabrielle closed her eyes and centered herself, taking a deep, calming breath as she looked down at Harry. She took out her wand once more and traced it over him, casting every diagnostic spell she knew. She wasn't a certified healer by any means, but it was something that had always interested her. She sighed with no small bit of relief as she realized that Harry was perfectly fine. Then why did he look like this? And then it hit her as she looked at the training dummies on the opposite wall and her mouth made an Oh shape as it all came together.

He had very likely come in here days previous to try and exercise what was perhaps his worst habit. Doubtlessly, he had pushed himself to the point of magical exhaustion, only exacerbating the emotional turmoil while weakening his body every time he did so.

"What am I going to do wiss you?" She muttered aloud, pocketing her wand as she gently got her arms underneath Harry and lifted him off of the ground. He was as light as she had expected him to be. As gently as she could, doing her best not to wake him, Gabrielle deposited him gently on the bed, tucking the blankets around him a moment later. She sighed, making to pull out her wand to conjure a chair when one appeared at the side of his bed, exactly the kind of comfortable arm chair she had been about to conjure.

She gaped, beyond taken aback by its sudden appearance as she stared in disbelief at the air around her. What had just happened? How was that even possible? It was as if the room had just created the exact thing she had wanted exactly because she wanted it. She thought again, thinking a book on advanced charms would be a good way to pass the time until she herself turned in. At the thought, another bed appeared beside Harry's and a book flashed into existence right on her lap, one she had never seen before.

She shook her head, beyond bamboozled at this point and just accepted the fact that Harry would just have one more thing to answer for whenever he awoke. Then a thought crossed her mind. If she was asleep when he awoke, would he wait around for her to wake? She liked to think he would, but his attitude in the past number of days was a direct contradiction to that belief.

Speaking of Harry, he snapped her out of her musings when he let out a low groan. She turned, her eyes alight but he wasn't awake. He was curling further in on himself, groaning yet again as he began to rithe furiously from the fetal position. Gabrielle starred, transfixed as he continued to moan in what was clearly despair. A moment later, she heard him mutter a name she had never heard before. "Sirius."

He whimpered, causing her heart to break as she looked down at his restless form. "No, Sirius wake up, wake up." She couldn't stand it anymore. She walked over to him and gently placed her hand on his shoulder, he immediately pulled away, still asleep. She frowned, she had felt him tense in waking, but his reaction seemed far more violent while still asleep. "No!" He cried out, still fast asleep. "Sirius wake up! Please wake up!"

Gabrielle suddenly felt herself fighting tears as she looked at him. She felt as if she had found the heart of his struggles. Had this been what the ghost had warned him about? Did Harry somehow blame himself for this person's death? A death that she assumed by his reaction he had witnessed in person.

She reached out again but he was shaking so much it was difficult for her to touch him in any way that wouldn't jolt him. Making up her mind, Gabrielle laid down beside him, rolling him over as gently as she could so that he was facing her and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her. His cries stopped, though he still shook violently and his moans persisted. Hating herself for what she was about to do, Gabrielle let the smallest amount of her allure loose, not enough to do anything violent, just hopefully enough to calm him.

It seemed to work as slowly, little by little, Harry quieted, seeming to deflate as he slumped subconsciously against her, his head lulling onto her shoulder. She looked down at his sleeping form. He looked so small in this position, yet so peaceful, so at ease, a stark contrast to the boy who had been curled up and thrashing just moments earlier. Gently, Gabrielle made to detach herself from Harry and get up but as she made to do so, she felt his hand close weakly around her wrist in a seemingly subconscious attempt to keep her close to him. She pondered for a moment before sighing, allowing herself to ease back down onto the pillows and allowing his head to drop onto her shoulder once more, her arms encircling him again. ' _This might be_ _awkward in the morning.'_

* * *

Harry didn't know what time it was as he stirred, but he had the oddest feeling that he had slept far longer than any time previous. It was odd as well how immensely comfortable he felt, perhaps more comfortable than he could ever remember feeling. This was odd to him because as far as he could remember, he had fallen asleep before getting into the bed. Despite that though he felt warm and comfortable, so warm. He did not want to open his eyes, he was groggy and still so comfortable. In spite of his best efforts, Harry's consciousness seemed to be awakening. He let out a groan of annoyance as he opened his eyes and became almost instantly confused. His vision without his glasses wasn't the best, but he could swear that it was being obscured by something bright, possibly silver?

A moment later, he could feel whatever was obscuring his vision tickle his face as he looked up, still groggy eyed and noticed through the haze that was his vision an angelic, unmistakable face. He jolted back in surprise and likely would have fallen off of the bed he was miraculously laying on had Gabrielle's arms not been around him. He heard her giggle quietly. "I will summon your glasses if you promise not to kill yourself in the second I take my 'ands off of you."

Harry flushed and nodded, a million questions springing to the forefront of his mind though he asked none. A moment later, he flinched a bit as he felt an unexpected touch as Gabrielle's warm hands placed his glasses upon him. Now with his full vision restored, Harry could see that he was indeed still in the Room of Requirement and was now half laying, half sitting on the bed he had created with his mind. The surprising thing was the girl in front of him. Gabrielle was sitting beside him, watching him appraisingly. It struck Harry for the millionth time how beautiful she was as her hair glowed in the torch lit room. In spite of her near ethereal beauty though, Harry thought she looked extremely tired.

"What time is it?" He asked, his voice a bit croaky.

Gabrielle held up her wand and the time displayed, Harry's mouth fell open. It was eleven o'clock in the morning, he had fallen asleep some time around nine the previous evening. He never slept that long, he was an early riser for the most part, and even in the recent days it had been several naps that took him to mid day, always being disturbed by nightmares. Now that he thought about it, Harry wasn't sure he had experienced any nightmares the night previous. He thought he had a vague memory of something but it was just that… vague. All in all, the impression he had of his sleep was oddly… pleasant.

"How long have you been here?" He asked Gabrielle, now making sure he was still fully clothed, as otherwise it would have been rather embarrassing; thankfully he was.

"Since about midnight." She answered, causing his mouth to fall open almost comically.

"W-what?" He asked, baffled by her answer.

"I came in at about midnight and you were asleep on ze floor. I moved you to ze bed and 'ave waited for you to wake up ever since."

Suddenly, Harry felt a wave of guilt crash over him. Had she really lost sleep over him? As a matter of fact, had that been a common occurrence the last few nights?

"Gabrielle, you didn't have to-"

"Yes, I did!" She cut in, her voice more authoritative than Harry could ever remember it being before. "Or would you 'ave preferred me to let you keep destroying yourself?"

Harry winced. "How much have you pieced together?" He asked a bit hesitantly.

"Quite a bit I ssink." She answered. "You wanted to get away from ze rest of your petty school, which in your circumstance was fair enough. You came in 'ere to work yourself to ze point of exhaustion in order to relieve stress despite my warning to you about it in ze past." She said that last bit in a rather tight voice filled with implications and Harry winced again. "You overdid it, probably slept in ze next day and repeated ze process, falling into a horrible cycle of self destruction when you could 'ave just talked to somebody." She arched a perfect eyebrow half in question, half in challenge. "'ow did I do?"

"Uh..." said Harry smartly, he didn't need to continue, that was enough for Gabrielle, it told her all she needed to know about the situation.

"So," she continued. "you continued to do ze exact ssing I warned you against doing before, and I'm guessing zat you 'ave done it every day since 'aven't you?"

"Uh — well, I didn't do it yesterday. It was, uh — pretty hard to cast any spells to tell you the truth."

"Idiot." Gabrielle muttered under her breath, flicking her wrist and causing Harry's wand to fly into her outstretched hand before passing it to him. "Cast a spell for me, somessing simple please."

Harry gulped, not even realizing that she hadn't used a wand but muttered "Lumos" anyways. The wand did indeed light, but it caused Harry to wince as he felt a stab somewhere near his chest and judging by the look on her face, Gabrielle had noticed.

"Put it out." She commanded, to which Harry obeyed. With reflexes to match if not surpass a seeker, Gabrielle snatched Harry's wand from his hand and pocketed it quickly. "You won't be needing that for ze rest of ze weekend." She said.

"But it's not even the weekend." He protested weakly. "It's only Friday."

"Your point?" She asked, causing him to merely look outraged. "If I gave you back your wand, I am risking ze possibility of you doing somessing equally draining and stupid wiss it like you 'ave ze last four days, which is a risk I am not willing to take."

"Come off it," pleaded Harry. "I need my wand."

"Why?" She asked, an eyebrow raised defiantly once more.

He didn't want to admit the reason he thought he may need his wand but he figured he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. "If I walk around this school without a wand right now, I'm going to get cursed." As he said it he flushed, not really liking how panicked that had come out.

Gabrielle's features softened and she reached out and took Harry's hand, stroking the back of it softly with her thumb. "Right now, I don't ssink you'd be able to stop a first year from cursing you." She said gently, giving his hand a squeeze when he winced at her bluntness, "Don't worry," she added. "I'm not going to let anybody curse you." Her voice broached no argument.

"But-" He tried to cut in, but Gabrielle placed a gentle finger to his lips, silencing him instantly.

"Trust me, 'arry." she said softly. "I trusted you last week, now it's time for you to trust me in return." Harry flushed, wanting to say that he did trust her but realizing how hypocritical that would sound right about now. "Now," said Gabrielle. "you chose to come 'ere and do the exact thing I warned you not to do. Why?"

He was blushing badly now, embarrassed by the fact that he didn't even have a decent answer. "I-I didn't know what to do." He admitted, causing Gabrielle to close her eyes and take a deep breath patiently.

"I told you last time, didn't I? You need to talk about zese ssings. Dealing with zem on your own never works and almost always leads to self destruction." She put a bit of an emphasis on the last two words, but squeezed his hand as well. "Why didn't you talk to someone?"

"How many reasons do you want?" He muttered, unfortunately, she heard him.

"If you 'ave two acceptable ones I will be surprised."

"I have no idea how to talk about stuff." He said laimly. "And I had no one at the time who would've listened."

Gabrielle felt a mix of hurt and sadness at his words but kept composed. "Zat's not true," she said softly. "your friends-"

"Have either all backstabbed me over this fucking tournament or aren't the kind of people I would talk to at any rate." He snapped, looking a bit ashamed of the outburst almost at once. "Sorry, but you've met the twins, they're pretty much all I have left without Ron and Hermione."

'Ah,' thought Gabrielle. 'the heart of the problem, backstabbed by your two best friends.' "I would 'ave listened to you." She said softly, hardly realizing she had dared to say it at all. "Why didn't you find me?"

Harry looked surprised for a moment. "I-I didn't want to bother-"

Again Gabrielle pressed a finger to his lips, causing him to fall silent again. "I don't know who put ze notion in your mind zat talking to someone about somessing important zat is causing you pain is bozering zem." She said. "But whoever did is clearly a useless excuse for a person. If somebody cares about you, they will 'ave no problem 'elping you. Zey will want to 'elp you, but zey can't if you won't let zem." She repositioned her hand so that she was cupping his chin and forced him to look straight into her eyes, he looked to her as if he were a deer caught in the headlights. "Do you trust me?" She asked him, he hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "Zen let me 'elp you." She said simply. "I'm not asking you to spill your deepest secrets, but let me 'elp you. At least talk about ze tournament and what 'appened."

And he did. Harry told her about the night's events, minus the vision of Voldemort and about the next day, and how his best friends and housemates had turned against him. He told her about how betrayed he had felt and how, for the first time since his arrival at Hogwarts, he had felt completely alone. He even told her about how everybody had believed him to be the heir of Slytherin in their second year all because he could speak parseltongue, a revelation that surprised her greatly, but one she did not comment on. He told her too, in vague terms, that Ron and Hermione had been his first true friends, though he gave no details on the matter. By the end of it, Harry felt emotionally exhausted, but he felt oddly lighter.

"Tell me about Ron." Asked Gabrielle to Harry's surprise.

"What?" He asked, sounding confused.

"I know exactly why 'ermione is being a salope about it, but I don't claim to know Ron overly well. Tell me about 'im, or why you ssink 'e is being zis way?"

"Oh, uh — I think he might be jealous." He said shortly.

"Jealous of what?" Asked Gabrielle, sounding baffled. "Zat you get to compete in a tournament you 'ave no interest in? In a tournament 'at 'e would be vastly unqualified for?"

"Well," said Harry. "I think it's more the attention of it actually." When Gabrielle rose an eyebrow once more he continued. "It's complicated. Ron grew up with five older brothers and his family — well, they've always been a bit tight on money so he didn't get much growing up in terms of materials or attention. His oldest brother, Bill was Head Boy here; Charlie, the next oldest was Gryffindor Quidditch captain. Percy, the third oldest was a prefect and Head Boy as well, and the twins have always been popular and got a lot of attention." Harry paused, not sure if he should reveal this next, slightly more personal detail, but he sighed and pressed onwards, wanting to leave no stone unturned if it could help the situation even though he wasn't sure how she could make anything of the situation.

"In my first year, I went exploring at night when I first got my dad's cloak." He thought he heard Gabrielle mutter "of course you did" but he didn't comment. "I found a strange mirror in an abandoned classroom," his throat constricted a little bit at the next bit but he pushed on. "it-it showed me my family. My mum, my dad, my grandparents, and a bunch of other people who I don't even know who they are. I-I had never seen pictures of them before." Gabrielle let go of his hand, choosing instead to wrap her arms around him once more and pull him close to her again. They were still sitting on the bed. Harry paused, closing his eyes and leaning into her for a moment as he took a deep breath, inhaling a nose full of a slightly flowery smell that seemed to oddly put his mind at ease.

"Anyway," he continued, clearing his throat. "I thought the mirror showed you your family, so I brought Ron the next night because I wanted to show him, and to see his family too. But it didn't," Harry paused again, lost in memory until Gabrielle squeezed him gently, prompting him to continue. "it showed Ron an image of himself with all the glory he could ever want. Prefect, Quidditch captain, Head Boy, raising the house cup with the Quidditch cup in front of him after shaking hands with Dumbledore..." He shook his head, just managing not to become lost in memory once more. "I talked to Dumbledore about the mirror later on that year, it turned out it was called The Mirror of Erised." Gabrielle gasped in recognition. "It didn't show you your family, it showed you-"

"Your 'eart's greatest desire." Gabrielle finished in barely more than a whisper, looking awestruck now.

Harry was confused. "How did you-"

"It was invented by Nicholas Flamel centuries ago." She said in explanation. "I've studied 'im very closely over ze years." She blushed. "'e 'as a lot of ze academic records at Beauxbatons and I've always been trying to beat zem. 'e's been a sort of role model of mine." She paused. "It was his way of judging someone's character when 'e met zem, to find out if zey were trustworssy or not. Eventually it became lost, some people say ze French ministry used it to vanquish spirits, as zey often get so entranced by ze mirror zat zey literally fade away, as zeir desires are so amplified zat zey are ze basis of the imprint." She shrugged. "I don't know if zat is true or not, but I do know Flamel created ze mirror."

"I never knew that," said Harry quietly. "but it fits and makes a lot of sense actually. Especially the bit about spirits." He was thinking of Voldemort. Could the mirror have been placed by Dumbledore as more than a distraction or an obstacle? Could it have been a trap or even a weapon against Voldemort?

"What do you mean?" Asked Gabrielle, causing Harry to sigh.

"It's not relevant." He said. "I was just lost in thought is all."

Her eyes narrowed but she did not call his bluff nor did she ask him how the hell he had just stumbled upon an artifact that had been lost for centuries, choosing instead to simply nod her head and look thoughtful. There would hopefully be time for all of that at a later date. "Well, jealousy would fit 'is behaviour zen." She said. "I am willing to bet zat once 'e realizes zis tournament is more zan fun and games 'e'll realize ze mistake 'e's making and come around."

"And when will that be?" Challenged Harry, to which Gabrielle shrugged as best she could in their current position.

"I don't know, maybe after ze first task at latest?"

"What about Hermione? You said you knew why she was being a — something."

"Don't worry about it," said Gabrielle in reference to the translation. "she is a good person but she is too narrow minded if what you tell me about 'er obsession with 'ouse elf rights is true, mixed wiss everyssing else I've learned about her. She believes more in writing zan she does people, and if she 'ad a preconceived notion in 'er mind, it will be 'ard pressed for someone to change it."

"So will she ever come around then?" Asked Harry, looking a bit panicked. He felt that Gabrielle's assessment of Hermione was actually quite on point, even if he hadn't thought of that himself.

"Eventually," she said. "I ssink once she gets over 'er outrage at you for tampering wiss ze goblet she'll ssink more reasonably."

Harry sighed. "So I pretty much have to wait it out then?" He asked, to which Gabrielle nodded sadly. "Great," he muttered. "so I'm alone for the next god knows how long."

"No, you're not!" Said Gabrielle fiercely, squeezing him tightly. "You 'ave ze twins, as you call zem, and you 'ave me and my friends." She looked at Harry a bit sternly again. "You will be joining us zis weekend boss so I can uphold my promise of making sure nobody curses you and so I can 'elp you catch up on ze week of work you have missed. I also 'ave to make sure you don't do anyssing stupid again."

Harry laughed softly despite himself, finding every moment he spent with Gabrielle to be more and more enjoyable. "I look forward to it." He joked, but he found that he meant it far more than he was letting on.

* * *

It was not until several hours later that Harry and Gabrielle exited the Room of Requirement. Harry had made a final push to be given back his wand, but Gabrielle had shot him down without much of a second thought. Harry didn't much fancy sitting in the Great Hall, let alone without a wand, but Gabrielle gave him little choice in the matter.

As soon as they entered, a literal hush fell over the student body as all eyes turned to them. It took all of Harry's willpower not to look at the ground as he and Gabrielle made their way towards the Ravenclaw table, taking seats far from Gabrielle's school mates, with the exception of her friend group, who quickly relocated to join them.

"Where 'ave you been?" Exploded Sophia at once, glancing almost evilly between Harry and Gabrielle.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "Always one to jump to ze most radical conclusion, aren't you, Sophia?"

"Is it really ZAT radical though?" She asked. "I mean, you disappear for a night and suddenly show up wiss someone who's been missing all week?" She winced at that, clearly realizing that it had come out wrong. "Sorry." She said, smiling apologetically at Harry who shrugged.

"It's ok."

A moment later, a pair of throats cleared from nearby and all of them looked up. "Excuse me madams," said George Weasley, him and his twin brother wearing identical grins. "would two of you mind zcooching down ze table?" George's imitation of a polite Frenchman, over exaggerated accent and all caused most of the girls to giggle, and make room for the twins who took seats across from Harry and Gabrielle.

The twins looked at Harry, clearly not wanting to say whatever was on their minds in public but Harry nodded subtly to them, indicating for them to go on. He trusted Gabrielle, and if she trusted these people, he figured he should give them a chance.

"We're sorry, mate." Said Fred immediately, causing Harry to look inquisitively at him.

"What for?" He asked. "You guys never did anything wrong."

"We should've waited for you last Sunday morning." Said George. "We let you walk head first into that shit storm and didn't warn you or anything."

"Yeah, everything went a bit pear shaped after you went up to bed." Added Fred. "The problem was, no matter what we said to anyone, Hermione seemed to have just proven us wrong, so it didn't really matter."

"I figured." Said Harry, shooting a wistful glance at the Gryffindor table, he felt Gabrielle subtly take his hand under the table and he shot her a brief smile.

"Not all of the house is against you." Said George. "Lee's with us, so is Ginny, and I think that real tall bloke from your year believes you too. Oh, and so do all the old Quidditch hands." At this, Harry felt a legitimate bit of relief creep into his body. At least some people he considered to be friends hadn't been so quick to dismiss his word and jump on the bandwagon. But then, a moment later, his heart sank.

"Quidditch," he said, slamming his free hand to his forehead. "shit, I've missed all the practices and I'm the captain. They're gonna kick me off the team."

"Don't be thick." Said Fred with a smirk.

"Yeah," chimed in George. "do you really think we'd let that happen?"

"What are you-"

"Harry," said Fred, sounding amused. "we told the rest of the team you've been in the hospital wing after a brawl broke out in the tower; Angelina backed the story too. To them, you haven't missed anything. They even think you won said brawl, took out ten people we told them." Harry wasn't sure if this last part was a joke or not; he really wouldn't have been surprised either way.

"I imagine they don't think too highly of their captain though." He added, shooting looks towards Roger and Lillian down the table.

"Nah," said George. "Fleet is something pissed off with you, being in Hufflepuff and all but the claws are alright. I don't really think most of them know what to believe to be honest with you."

"Yeah," added Fred. "Ravenclaws, they'd never make a decision without being one hundred percent sure they were right."

Harry laughed despite himself, the first time he had laughed in almost a week and in that one moment, he felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off of his shoulders.

They ate the rest of the meal making small talk between themselves. Sophia tried to make a few more not so subtle inquiries about Harry and Gabrielle, but Gabrielle deflected all of them without issue. The only oddity was that Harry caught the small blonde girl — Sophie shooting looks between him and Gabrielle, a calculating, almost hopeful look on her face.

When the meal was over they all stood, intent on heading to the library to finish work in the case of the others, and catch up in the case of Harry and Gabrielle. They never got there though, as before they could exit a voice behind them called out. "Mr. Potter." Harry turned, dread filling his heart as he saw his Head of House, Professor McGonagall making her way towards him.

"Uh — yes, Professor?" He answered, more than a little bit nervous, he was sure she was about to rip him a new one for missing a week of classes.

"The headmaster wishes to speak with you." She told him. "Follow me, please."

"We'll wait for you in the library." Whispered Gabrielle.

"Don't bother," said Harry. "it'll probably be late by the time I'm out."

Gabrielle didn't seem to like it but she nodded. "Meet us in 'ere for breakfast at eight ssirty."

"Of course, your highness." Said Harry with a bow, causing Sophia and Josephine to crack up and Sophie to giggle softly. Gabrielle swatted him playfully on the arm and pushed him after his Head of House.

Harry and Professor McGonagall walked in silence up to the seventh floor, Harry was too nervous to ask as to the purpose of the meeting, especially when he was fairly sure he knew it already. When they reached the gargoyle, she gave the password and it leapt aside. She gestured for him to go ahead. "You're not coming with me?" He asked, sure the two of them had been planning on lecturing him.

She raised an eyebrow. "Not unless you would like me to as your Head of House." She said, to which he quickly shook his head, now more than a little bit confused as he climbed the spiral staircase alone. Within seconds, he was standing in front of the oak door leading to the headmaster's office. He knocked, and almost immediately heard Dumbledore call out "Enter" to which he obliged.

The office looked much the same as it had the last time Harry had stood inside of it, not long after the beginning of the term as all of their meetings since had taken place in the Room of Requirement.

"Good evening, Harry." Said Dumbledore from behind his desk, smiling up at him in an almost relieved fashion.

"Good evening, sir." Said Harry, sounding a bit nervous.

Dumbledore must have noticed because he raised an eyebrow. "You look worried." He said, sounding almost amused.

"Well, I expected — you know — I've missed a lot of class."

Dumbledore pierced Harry with a stare and gave a small, almost conspiratorial smile. "Ah, yes, but I have been most reliably informed that you have taken up residence in the hospital wing after a most unfortunate accident in your common room." Harry knew all too well that Dumbledore didn't believe it for a second, but he was grateful nonetheless for the reprieve. Dumbledore readjusted his glasses and peered up at him more critically, clearly about to drop the charade and get to the real reason he had called Harry to join him. "You have been a difficult man to find in the last week." He said diplomatically. "I have been trying very hard indeed to get a message to you for nearly six days now."

Harry took a seat, looking a bit awkward. "Oh, right, sorry." Said Harry, feeling a bit uncomfortable as he had indeed asked for the room to be impossible to find. Now that he thought of it, he had never asked nor ascertained how the hell Gabrielle had found him, let alone gained entrance to the room. He knew now was not the time to ponder such things though, as Dumbledore was speaking again.

"I have no desire to scold you, Harry, as I hope I have already displayed. I was merely concerned as to your mental well being after the events of last Saturday night." He said. "Concerns which I admit were only exacerbated by your sudden disappearance."

Harry looked down, not being able to help it. "I'm sorry, sir. I-I had a rough time after the selection and wanted a bit of a break."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore softly. "I have heard rumblings of these tough times. Am I correct in assuming that both Ms. Granger as well as Mr. Weasley believe that you entered yourself willingly into the Triwizard Tournament?"

Harry was surprised. "How did you-"

"Harry, Harry," said Dumbledore with a tired smile. "there is little that goes on within these walls that I am unaware of. Though I will admit that matters concerning you have largely been an exception over the last number of years."

"Right," said Harry, sure there was a deeper meaning there that he was missing. "yeah, they-they didn't believe me."

"And I am assuming this more than anything else is what bothered you after your selection?" Asked Dumbledore gently. Harry nodded. "I imagine that it is also safe for me to assume that it was one of the driving forces, if not the primary catalyst for your sudden desire for space?" Again Harry nodded and Dumbledore closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he opened them once more. "I think I know where you have been." he said, causing Harry to nod slowly, seeing no reason to deny it. "My question however lies in what you have been doing? You do not strike me as the type of man to sit around and wallow for the better part of a week."

"Not exactly, sir." Said Harry, looking uncomfortable once again. "If-if I tell you, will you promise not to lecture me?" At this, the corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched upward.

"I suppose that depends on the origins of your request?" He quipped.

"I've already been scolded about the stupidity of it more than enough for today, and I don't even think you could bring up a point that the other person missed."

Dumbledore chuckled despite himself but shook his head. "Very well, how did you put it? I give you my word that I will not lecture you on your usage of time. Though I maintain the right to share any wisdom I may have on said usage of time if I think it may be productive."

Harry nodded, figuring that was the best deal he was going to get. He took a deep breath, mentally readying himself to take the plunge. "I've been having a hard time since Sirius died." He said quietly, to which Dumbledore's expression softened almost immediately. "When-when it's been tough, really tough I mean, one of the things I've done is train, and train hard. A good, hard, long training session will usually take my mind off of things but I've been told that I sometimes take it too far."

"In other words," said Dumbledore quietly, his eyes noticeably absent of their usual twinkle. "you exhaust yourself in the hopes of that exhaustion overpowering your negative emotions?" Harry hesitated but nodded. "Very well," sighed Dumbledore, suddenly looking every bit his age. "please continue, Harry."

"Right," said Harry, feeling still more uncomfortable. "Well after I was selected as champion, I kind of tried to do the same thing. To say that I overdid it was an understatement. I knocked myself out for the night and woke up the next afternoon. I figured there was no point in showing up to class since it was so late in the day, and I had no interest in facing the school anyways so I just did it again." He winced. "It got worse each day, I could barely cast Lumos this morning and couldn't cast anything yesterday and it did nothing to improve my mood."

"That does not surprise me," sighed Dumbledore. "some raw emotions such as grief take energy to be fuelled, hence why your irresponsible strategy accomplished your goal in regards to your emotions involving Sirius, if you disregard the consequences of such actions. Betrayal though, it is an emotion not so easily thwarted, and often preys on those with no energy at all." Dumbledore peered at him again. "I will not lecture you on this practice, Harry, as I can see that whomever has done so already left a far greater impression than I believe I could at present. My question however, is how do you feel now?"

Harry sighed. "Better," he said honestly. "loads better after they found me this morning. We talked for a long time, she didn't really give me much of a choice in the matter." Harry realized too late that he had revealed the gender of his accomplice but it was too late to go back and it was better to not show Dumbledore that it had been a slip up. "It helped a lot actually." He smiled. "So did talking with Fred and George Weasley."

"Ah yes," said Dumbledore, the twinkle returning to his eyes. "a most entertaining duo they are. Is it safe to assume that they were your accomplices in the school wide prank involving the Goblet of Fire?"

"Yes sir." Said Harry, to which the corners of Dumbledore's mouth gave yet another twitch.

"Naturally." He muttered, seeming amused. "Well," he said. "I hope you have learned the consequences of such actions, Harry. You did not get as far into the practice as I did many years ago, but if I learned anything through it, it is that there are far better ways to resolve one's problems."

"Yes sir," answered Harry again, "my friend didn't give me much of a choice again. She took my wand and won't give it back until Monday. She said she doesn't want me doing anything stupid."

Dumbledore chuckled. "When you feel up to it, Harry, I feel inclined to meet this friend of yours and congratulate her on a job very well done."

"Sir," said Harry, steering the topic away from Gabrielle only half intentionally. "I wanted to ask you something."

Dumbledore must have picked up on the tone of Harry's voice, for his demeanour suddenly became far more serious. "Ask away then, Harry." He prompted.

"The night I was selected as champion," he began. "something happened in the common room. I think it was another vision through my scar, but I've never had one happen while I was awake before. I felt a sharp pain and the room went black. Then — well, it's hard to explain, but I wasn't me. I was looking into a fire through someone else's eyes. It was a floo call, I'm sure of that, but I don't know who he was calling. I can't remember the face. Anyways, when it disappeared I, or the person I was in the vision, got really excited and couldn't wait for something to happen." He took a deep breath. "And then he, or me in the vision, said it is done. I've heard that voice before, it sounded exactly like Voldemort." There was a long pause in which neither student nor teacher spoke before Harry hesitantly broke the silence. "Do you think it was another vision, sir?"

"It would certainly seem so," said Dumbledore, seeming to be in deep thought, "it matches all of the characteristics of a vision, and there are several points you described that, though subtle, lead me to believe that it was a vision."

"Like what, sir?" Asked Harry, feeling an odd mix of nervous and curious.

"I told you in our last discussion about this that I believe the connection between you and Voldemort is at its strongest when he is feeling particularly powerful emotions?"

"You did." Affirmed Harry.

"Well, the fact that you almost immediately could sense Voldemort's emotions as if they were your own indicates to me that he was feeling them rather powerfully for lack of a better phrase. This matches one of the key characteristics that I believe will correlate to these visions."

"So, you think I'll have visions any time Voldemort feels powerful emotions?" Asked Harry, not looking forward to the prospect.

"Not necessarily," said Dumbledore. "but I do feel that those occasions in which he does indeed feel most strongly about something will increase the probability of an involuntary foray into his mind or his actions."

"Sir, is there any way for me to stop these visions?"

Dumbledore seemed to ponder something for a moment, as if he were debating whether or not to tell Harry about it. "There are several branches of magic that deal specifically with the mind." Was what he eventually settled on. "One of these branches is called occlumency, and among other things, it can be used to defend one's mind against psychic attacks. I am not positive that it would work against these visions, but I believe it would if you were to become highly proficient, at least to some extent. The issue comes with teaching it. I am afraid that in my opinion, the practicality of occlumency is outweighed by the practicality of the defensive magic we have been working on, as well as some other things I would like to show you over the coming months. The only other person in this castle who I know to be capable of teaching you occlumency whom I trust is a man you would never agree to as a teacher, and when it comes to occlumency, there must be a very high level of trust between student and teacher if there is to be any level of success."

"It's Snape, isn't it?" Asked Harry, knowing full well Dumbledore was right, he would never trust Snape enough for something like this.

" _Professor_ Snape, but yes." Confirmed Dumbledore.

"Well, that's out then." Said Harry, resigning himself to the fact he would likely have to deal with visions of Voldemort that would likely increase in frequency as the months drew on.

"I thought as much." Said Dumbledore a bit sadly. "At any rate, I think we should discuss the implications of this vision before I send you off to bed; time is not delaying its usual practice of making fools out of the both of us."

"You think he had something to do with my name ending up in the goblet?" Asked Harry.

"I am almost certain of it." Replied Dumbledore quietly. "That fact, as grave as it may be, is far less disturbing to me than the real question; how did he do it?"

"You don't have any ideas?" Asked Harry, actually surprised by the fact.

Dumbledore smiled indulgently. "Harry, the problem is not that I have no ideas, the problem is that I have too many of them, each more far fetched than the last. It could very well be that one of my dozen or so ideas is completely correct, but they are so jumbled and as I said, seemingly far fetched that I dare not investigate any of them without more information."

"Do you think it was Karkaroff?" Asked Harry, unable to contain the question.

"No, I do not." Said Dumbledore without hesitation, causing Harry to gawk at him.

"But wasn't he a Death Eater?"

"Igor Karkaroff was indeed in Lord Voldemort's employ for a time." Said Dumbledore. "But I find the possibility of him putting your name into the goblet on Voldemort's orders very unlikely. Do not mistake me," he added. "if the times were different, if the time was right, I have little doubt that Karkaroff would do such a thing, but Igor is nothing if not an opportunist who has grown quite comfortable with his life of reasonable luxury. He would not risk throwing that all away to help a master whom he believed to be dead. No, I do not believe Igor Karkaroff would lift a finger to help Lord Voldemort unless it was very evident to the former that the latter had gained back the power he once wielded."

Harry thought about it for a minute. "But why would Voldemort go through the trouble of putting my name in? I mean, he obviously has a spy at Hogwarts. If he wanted to kill me, why not just have the spy do it?"

"An excellent question," answered Dumbledore. "and one that, yet again, I have countless theories on, but yet again, I would not even know where to begin. The important thing for you to focus on now, Harry, is the Triwizard Tournament, as it will be both dangerous and trying. We will keep up our lessons, though we will have to take great precaution not to have them discovered. When you are not focusing on your necessary social life, your classes, or our lessons, I implore you to think about the Triwizard Tournament and how you are going to approach it. The threat of Voldemort is one that you can not control at the moment, so I urge to do your utmost best go put it from your mind."

Harry nodded, not liking it but seeing Dumbledore's point, the tournament was going to be hard enough, especially with his schedule.

"And with that," said Dumbledore smiling. "I think we shall call it a night. I will make sure a notice reaches you before our next lesson."

"Yes sir." said Harry, standing up and making his way towards the door. "Good night, sir."

"Good night, Harry." Said Dumbledore softly as the door swung shut, instantly allowing his face to take on one of worry and concern. He had come so close to telling Harry exactly why Tom had put his name into the Goblet of Fire, for he was sure he knew, but Harry had too much on his plate as it was, and he did not need to burden him with the potential of a trap. He could only hope he had made the right decision.

* * *

 **Authors Endnote:**

 **Wow! Well, I think this is the beginning of what a lot of you are here for, so let me know what you thought of this chapter via PM or review.**

 **Please read and review.**


	22. Advice and Occlumency

**Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction based on the associated works of J.K Rowling. I own no part of Harry Potter and I make no profit.**

* * *

 **Authors Note 1:**

 **Happy One Year Anniversary!**

 **It's been awhile, huh? I am sorry for the long delay on this chapter, but between being out of the country, focusing heavily on another one of my stories, and quite frankly, the fact that this chapter was a bitch to write — it has taken me far longer to post this than I imagined it would.**

 **The next chapter should be out by January 14th, though the chapter after likely won't come until early February, as I am out of the country again from the 14th to the 24th of January for a training camp and though the resort we are staying at is beautiful, unless they have overhauled the wifi in the last year, it will be physically impossible for me to post anything.**

 **On a positive note, the pace will really pick up after this one, so I hope you are all ready!**

* * *

 **Authors Note 2:**

 **I had to do this French accent myself this time since the person who is usually generous enough to do it for me was unavailable due to the holidays, so if it is not as good as usual you have me to blame :) It will be revised when they become available again.**

 **I could have waited, but I really wanted this out on the anniversary.**

* * *

 **Authors Note 3:**

 **Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story.**

* * *

"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.'

 **Parseltongue.**

 _French/In Story Text._

 _ **Memories.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 22: Advice and Occlumency.**

That night Gabrielle sat alone in her room within the magically enhanced Beauxbatons carriage as her mind pondered the events of the past twenty-four hours in detail. On one hand, Harry had opened up and even agreed to allow her to help him. On the other, she could tell he still held so many important secrets, and without them, she wasn't entirely sure how to proceed. The only tidbit of information she had received from him that may lead to some more answers was a name, and it was given inadvertently at that — Sirius.

She sighed, mentally adding that name to her memory log and promising herself that she would look it up when she had the time. She made to shift her position on her bed and felt something in her pocket, she reached her hand into the pocket in question, remembering only as she touched it that she was still in possession of Harry's wand. She eyed it critically, holding it as gently as possible as though it were a priceless and delicate piece of art. It was perhaps a bit shorter than her own, but it was oddly pale; a colour of wand she had never seen before. She gripped it as though to cast a spell and had to bite down the impulse to gasp. She felt warmth spread all throughout her body, much like when she had first taken ahold of her own wand — 12 inches, made of beech wood with one of her grandmother's hairs. In fact, it had been one of the last times Gabrielle had seen her grandmother, as shortly after, she had passed on and left the responsibilities of the French Veela in the hands of her mother.

Gabrielle shook her head. She was certain that whatever was in Harry's wand, it was not the hair of a Veela and the wood was evidently not beech. Was it the bond then? Is that what made his wand seemingly so compatible for her? She bit her lip; she wanted to test the wand, to see if it was actually as compatible as it felt, but doing so felt almost like treason. She took a deep breath and raised Harry's wand, conjuring a pile of sand with a casual wave before flicking the wand once more, causing the sand to rise into the air and begin to contort into geometric shapes. She raised her eyebrows, the animation charm had been just as easy with his wand as it would have been with her own.

She shook her head, vanishing the sand with another casual flick as she set his wand beside her own on her bedside table. She was allowing herself to fall prey to curiosity, an occurrence that was far from foreign to her. She had promised to help Harry, but how would she do it?

She sighed, coming to a decision without really thinking about it. She held out her hand and a moment later, a piece of paper flew into it.

Wandless magic was something that came far easier to Veela, actually, it came far easier to most any magical creature. It was not something Gabrielle showed off in public, but it was a rather convenient ability. She had never really pushed its boundaries, never trying to learn curses or complex charms wandlessly, but things like summoning and banishing charms were easy for her.

With a twitch of her finger, a pen was in her other hand. She didn't understand why Hogwarts — and by extension — England seemed to use quills. Her father had told her that they were far more hung up on traditions than France, who had abandoned that practice decades ago.

She smoothed out the piece of paper and wrote.

 _Dear mother,_

 _I am sorry for my lack of correspondence over the past month. Hogwarts is amazing, no matter what Fleur tells you. It lacks the elegance of Beauxbatons in many areas, but its magic and secrets are unmatched by anything I have seen in our country._

 _I am writing to you to speak about the bond we spoke of in the summer. You were right of course, I did indeed find out who it is, and I beg you to keep the information between yourself and papa. My mate seems to be one of the most famous wizards in the world, Harry Potter. You may think I am joking as it sounds like something straight from a fairy tale, but I assure you I am not._

 _Like I suspected and we discussed in the summer, he is dealing with a lot of personal demons. Some of those I am still trying to work out, but some have become more evident. As I am sure you know through Fleur's letters, he was somehow selected as a fourth Triwizard champion. Contrary to what Fleur likely tells you, I am certain he didn't put his name into the goblet, both because of the bond and because of his reaction to the events._

 _Unfortunately, many of his friends have turned their backs on him, and he has had a long week. Just as unfortunate, one of his main mechanisms of coping is to work himself magically to the point of exhaustion as opposed to talking about it in an effort to dim his emotions. I am trying to help him learn that sometimes you just have to talk to someone, but I imagine it will be a long transition._

 _Is there anything else you think that could help?_

 _On an unrelated note, will you be at Hogwarts for our events in the tournament? I compete in the duelling portion of the tournament two days before Fleur will perform the first task._

 _I hope you can help in any way possible and I can't wait to see you again._

 _With all of my love,_

 _Gabrielle._

* * *

The weekend passed at a surprisingly high speed for Harry. True to her word, Gabrielle had practically ensured he was glued to her any time he wasn't sleeping. They spent a large amount of time in the library catching Harry up on the week he had missed despite his protests that Gabrielle should focus on her own studies. She had apparently talked Neville into lending her the week's notes, and had even asked Professors Flitwick and McGonagall what Harry had missed.

Though Harry wished she wasn't spending so much time in places he thought she shouldn't, he had to admit that she was a very good teacher. He had never actually seen much of her wand work before, with the exception of the revealing charm and a stunner or two at the World Cup, but she was clearly as gifted in the practical as she was in theory, and she excelled mightily in both.

He did have to endure a heavy amount of teasing from Sophia, even if it was for the most part directed at Gabrielle herself, but Harry found this a small price to pay.

Luckily for him, Fred and George had evidently told Ron off, because though the red-head was still as frosty as ever, he did not lock the door at night and Harry was able to sleep in his own dormitory for the first time in almost a week.

Before he knew it, Monday morning had arrived and he found himself strolling up to the Ravenclaw table as was now routine, ignoring the hundreds of eyes that continued to do their level best to bore a whole straight through him with their gaze.

"Good morning." greeted Gabrielle with her customary smile, one that always warmed Harry to the core almost at once.

"Morning madams." He said, bowing theatrically to her group of friends before taking his customary seat beside her. When he sat down however, he immediately became more business like as he turned towards Gabrielle, holding out his hand. "My wand?" He asked. She had been true to her word and held his wand for the entirety of the weekend, though she had let him use it on Sunday for some light practical charm work.

She looked him up and down, her message clear. He nodded, trying to signify that he was giving his word he wouldn't use it to put himself in a state of magical exhaustion. She pulled her clearly magically enhanced purse from beneath the table and stuck her hand into it, drawing out his wand a moment later and handing it to him. He felt a surge of warmth run up his arm and spread throughout his body; he couldn't help but smile fondly.

Sophia rolled her eyes in annoyance; despite her best efforts, she had been unable to find out why Gabrielle was holding Harry's wand hostage as neither one of them had been at all willing to part with the information.

Harry didn't eat as the rest compiled their plates, figuring he would settle on lunch and dinner as his two meals for the day, and though she pursed her lips, Gabrielle chose not to comment this morning. A few minutes later, the customary rush of wings filled the hall as the owl post arrived. To Harry's slight surprise though, Gabrielle had seemed to have received a package as an elegant looking eagle owl landed in front of her. She smiled, looking oddly relieved as she quickly fed the bird a piece of bacon and opened the letter attached to the rectangular package, her eyes seemed to widen a bit as she nodded slowly, pocketing the note as she looked inquisitively at Harry. She clearly wished to talk to him, but did not venture to do so until her friends were locked in conversation minutes later.

"Can you meet me sometime tonight?" She asked him, causing him to quirk an eyebrow.

"What for?"

"I want to teach you something zat I sink will help you deal with everysing you are going trough." she said. "I want to explain it alone first zough, because you may not want me to teach it to you at all."

She had his attention peaked. "How much time would we need?"

"Not too much," she answered. "I zink I would just want to talk tonight."

"Well, I have a duelling practice at seven, but if we make an early dinner we could meet up after eating."

She nodded. "Zat works fine for me, do you know of anywhere private we could meet?"

He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Jeez I don't know — maybe the Room of Requirement?" He had told her his name for the room that morning now days ago.

She swatted him playfully on the arm. "Sure, we can walk up togezer after dinner?"

"Sounds like a plan." He affirmed, earning him another dazzling smile.

* * *

The rest of that day dragged on for Harry, as try as he might, he could not curb his curiosity, nor could he pull his mind off of the number of guesses that were swirling through his head. What would she teach him that could help? He didn't doubt that she likely knew more magic than he did, but he failed to see how any of it could achieve any of the things she hoped to.

It was a rather awkward day of lessons, though to Harry's relief, it had not included one of Snape's; he wasn't sure what he would have done if provoked by the greasy excuse of a professor at the moment. He wondered what Gabrielle had told McGonagall though, as the normally strict woman had been surprisingly easy on Harry, even offering him help after classes if he needed.

'Is McGonagall straight? If not, that would definitely explain it.'

At any rate, Harry had made it through the day with little to no drama, though he had been a bit uncomfortable as Moody's stare had burnt a hole into the back of his head. The only real event of any worth had come to pass in that class, as the grizzled ex auror had announced that they would be practicing their defense against the Imperius curse in one weeks time, something that Harry was quite certain had to be illegal, though he, nor anybody else commented on it.

Finally though, he slunk into the Great Hall, taking his seat beside Gabrielle who graced him with her ever present smile as he began reaching for food. "How were your classes?" She asked, her voice perhaps a note more gentle than usual.

He shrugged. "Uneventful for the most part; you'll be happy to know that you managed to catch me up in all of them without issue. I actually think I'm ahead in Charms now. Thanks for that by the way; the summoning charm is still giving me hell for some reason though. I don't get it, I can perform literally all of the other spells in the fourth year curriculum, and I bet most from the fifth."

She smiled at him again. "Intent, 'arry," she chided. "magic is all about intent."

He just nodded. "I know, but it hasn't helped me summon a pillow." Sofia snorted off to their right. "I should warn you though — if your Headmistress wants you in on Moody's lessons on the unforgivables, you'll be joining us next Tuesday for a lesson that won't be overly pleasant."

"What is 'e 'aving us do?" Asked Sophie, surprising Harry by speaking up.

"Trying to resist the Imperius curse." He answered bluntly, causing Sophie, Josephine and Gabrielle to gape at him as Sophia started to giggle before shakily falling silent.

"You-you're not serious, are you?"

"Dead serious." He answered, seeming to challenge her to argue with his emerald eyed stare.

"'e is a mad man!" Hissed Josephine. "Zose spells would land him in your prison forever if your ministry or ze ICW knew 'e was casting zem."

"Dumbledore might know, and he's the figurehead of the ICW."

"You zink your headmaster knows?" Asked Gabrielle, sounding more curious than accusing.

"I wouldn't be surprised," he admitted. "Dumbledore's always sort of done things his way and to be honest, something like this would be straight up his alley."

"But casting zat curse on students is 'orrible!" Bit back Josephine, seeming to be enraged by the very idea.

Harry shrugged. "I have no problem with it; I'm actually happy we're doing it." All four girls gaped at him and he just shot them pointed looks. "Would you rather face it in a classroom with harmless intentions, or be forced to murder your family by a psychopathic dark wizard?"

"A bit morbid." Noted Sophia with some distaste.

"But historically accurate." Countered Harry, to which no one had an appropriate counterpoint for.

On the back of this delightful slice of food for thought, Harry and the four French girls ate in mostly silence before finally, when Harry had long since finished, Gabrielle rested a gentle hand on his arm. It was odd; almost as if he knew it was her without looking or using contextual evidence, it was as if he just — knew, and he did not so much as flinch as he turned to look at her.

"We should go now." She said, pulling him to his feet with her as she swung her purse over her shoulder. Whatever comment Sophia was going to make was silenced by Sophie's rather sharp looking elbow to the ribs, something that surprised Harry even more than her speaking up earlier.

'There's more to her than meets the eye, I think.'

Harry felt a bit surprised when Gabrielle slipped her arm through Harry's as they walked up to the seventh floor. Their closeness made his heart race rather quickly, though if she had noticed at all, she did not comment. After only a few minutes they reached the room and Harry looked at her expectantly as she bit her lip.

"Walk in front of ze wall sree times envisioning what I want?" She asked for confirmation. His nod was all she needed as she did as said. Moments later, the auspicious looking door appeared, and both Harry and Gabrielle entered a rather comfortable and well fashioned looking room. Harry took a seat in a most comfortable looking armchair, and Gabrielle took the one beside him, shooting a near imperceptible glance towards the lone couch in the room, though Harry did not notice.

"So," Harry began. "what do you want to teach me?"

"I just want to talk for now." Said Gabrielle. "I-I do not know if you would want me to teach you what I will propose. It takes a very large amount of trust-"

"I trust you." He said without hesitation, a statement that made Gabrielle's heart flutter, but also caused her to sigh.

"Do you, 'arry?"

The question took him aback. He felt as if he had been slapped. "Of course I do!"

"But you still keep secrets from me, some of which I know are important."

He blanched. "I — you'll hate me saying this, I know you will, but you wouldn't understand — wouldn't believe me."

She scoffed. "Come, am I to believe zat you have secrets more unbelievable zan killing a basilisk?"

"Yes." He answered bluntly, causing her eyes to widen for the briefest of moments.

"And if I said I did not believe you?"

"I wouldn't blame you, but it would just prove my point."

"What do I have to do to earn zat kind of trust from you?" She Asked defiantly, urged on by his doubt. "Trust to ze point where you do not fear telling me even your darkest of secrets?"

For a moment, his face became physically pained. "It — a lot of it has nothing to do with trust."

"And what of zat which does?"

He sighed. "Fine! Ask me anything — one thing. If I can answer — answer without risking what I can't afford to risk, I will tell you."

She thought for only a moment before asking the question that had been on her mind for days, though upon seeing the expression of pure, unadulterated agony which crossed his face for the briefest of moments, she wished she had not. "Sirius Black — who is he? 'ow did you know him? Why do you speak of him in your sleep?"

She watched with horror as even after the more obvious traces of agony had left his face, he visibly deflated, all the fight leaving him as he stared, almost brokenly at her before speaking in a soft, quiet voice. "Now isn't the time-" he raised his hand when he saw she would interrupt. "I-I will tell you tonight, but after we're done whatever you've planned. It will ruin the mood, and I won't be up for much after." He shot her an almost apologetic look. "You'll have to swear an oath though. It's not that I don't trust you but — a lot of people could get in serious trouble, and I don't mean detention."

She nodded, not even daring to argue with that look, that haunted, all too familiar look in his eyes. "Zank you." She said, gracing him with the most dazzling smile she could muster and feeling happiness well up inside of her as he seemed to gain his posture back just from her smile.

She raised her wand. "I, Gabrielle Apline Delacour, swear on my blood and magic that I will not reveal ze information zat 'arry James Potter tells me about Sirius Black wissout his expressed permission." The light of magic glowed around her as they fell into a brief, yet somewhat awkward silence.

"So?" He prompted, causing her face to take on a more business like expression.

"We boze know how I feel about your tendency to try and help yourself," she said, causing him to wince. "but honestly, I 'ave been a bit 'ard on you about it. It is no less stupid zan I said it was," she assured him vehemently. "but I also realize it's not somesing you can just stop doing all at once." She reached across the space between them and took one of his hands, looking him directly in the eye as she did so, not missing the trace of a shiver that seemed to wrack his body as she spoke. "I know you exhaust yourself because you feel overwhelmed by emotion and you feel like you need to get rid of it; I am going to teach you — if you will let me — a much safer way of doing zat." Her visage became more stern. "Your first option should still be to talk, but if you can't right away, if you need to dim ze emotions before zey take you over completely, zis is a much better option, and it is also very useful in ozer areas too."

"Why wouldn't I let you teach me?" He asked carefully. "It seems incredible by the sounds of it." She ignored the prick of sadness at the hopefulness in his eyes.

"Because, zough I can teach you ze absolute basics just in theory, for it to actually be of any use to you, you will have to put full trust in me — trust me more zan you have ever trusted anybody else in your life."

He fidgeted. "Gabrielle, you're speaking in riddles."

She sighed again, reminding him briefly of his headmaster. "What I want to teach you is called Occlumency." She said, noticing the near comical widening of his eyes. "You know it?"

He shook his head. "N-no, I just know the term. Dumbledore mentioned it, and that it can be used to defend against psychic attacks."

'Uh huh, that does not just come up in conversation.' Thought Gabrielle, though she said nothing on the thought.

"It can be, yes, and zat is actually why it would take so much trust on your part." She added this last bit with a gentle squeeze of the hand she still held. "I would be showing it to you for one of its other uses — zough I could teach you 'ow to defend from psychic attacks as well, if you wanted."

"I do." He answered, and the force and sureness in which he spoke took her aback. She took a minute to regain her thoughts, shaking her head slowly with a sad smile playing on her perfect pink lips.

"You may not be so eager once you know what zat would entail."

"Try me?" He challenged.

"If you wish." Said Gabrielle sadly, and before Harry knew what was happening, her beachwood wand was in her free hand and aimed directly at his forehead. "Legilimens."

In an instant, Harry was no longer sitting in front of Gabrielle, but a much older, much less attractive person in the form of his headmaster, listening once again as Dumbledore spoke of Occlumency, his barriers to learning it, and its potential applications to his visions of Voldemort. Upon the thought of Voldemort and the vision, that very vision played through his mind. He was panicking, his heart racing as Voldemort spoke to the unknown man's face in the flames. Still, even now that the memory had been made vivid once more, he did not recognize the man in the fire, though as soon as his panic began, it was over, and he was on his knees on the floor, one hand pressed firmly against his temple, as the other held onto Gabrielle's like a lifeline. "W-what was that?"

Gabrielle slid off of her chair in a moment, joining Harry on the floor as she pulled him into her, releasing his hand as she wrapped and arm around him and pressed a palm flat against his forehead, causing his headache to vanish in seconds before wrapping her other arm around him as well. "Zat," she said sadly. "was what will have to happen if you want to learn Occlumency, to really learn it, I mean." She shook her head, scowling; an expression that did not at all suit her angelic face. "Zat was more extreme zan what would normally happen if we practiced, but I had to show you its true potential."

"D-did you see what I saw?" His voice sounded scared, not accusing, something that both relieved and saddened her equally.

"I did." she admitted. "I did not know you discuss magical seory wiss ze greatest wizard in Britain." She tried weakly. "I do not know what ze second vision was zough."

"I don't want to talk about it." He said a bit shakily, causing her to squeeze him tightly.

"You do not 'ave to," she said gently. "I just 'ad to show you. Zat is ze kind of trust you would have to put in me. Knowing zat I could do zat to you any time I wanted until you mastered ze practice. Knowing zat your mind would be an open book to me in ze beginning."

"And what would I gain from it?"

"You could control — even suppress your emotions zrough its use." She told him. "Suppressing zem would be a last resort," she said sharply. "as zere are legitimate dangers wiss doing it, but it would help you master your emotions." She shrugged. "And like you already said, you could learn to stop almost all forms of psychic attacks."

She saw the debate rage in his eyes for only a second before he stared at her with such intensity she would not have thought it possible. "Let's do it." He said, and she could not help but feel a wave of happiness crash through her. Still though, she would not deserve his trust if she did not make sure he understood.

"Are you sure, 'arry? You know I have to try and enter your head repeatedly, even if I don't have to break into your thoughts? You know what I could do wiss you? Wiss your mind?"

"But you won't." He said, staring a hole straight past her eyes and into her very soul. "I trust you, Gabrielle. If this doesn't prove it to you, I don't know what will."

She sighed, her body relaxing as she leaned into him, squeezing him tighter still as she tried to convey her gratitude without words. "Zank you, 'arry."

"Well," he said, looking determined. "no time like the present. Let's get started."

She shook her head. "Not now, your mind has been through more than enough for one night, and you still have duelling practice to contend with."

He shrugged. "I'll miss it anyways. I still have to tell you about Sirius."

"It can wait," she said gently. "you have proven you trust me beyond any doubt, and I don't want you to miss practice — or to relive anysing painful after-"

But he had stopped her, surprising her by taking both of her hands.

'Has he ever been the one to instigate closeness like this before?'

"No," he said forcefully "I don't care about practice. I told you that I would tell you, you deserve to know the truth, and — it will help both of us, I think. You to understand me and — well — if you're right about this whole talking thing." He took a deep, calming breath as he looked into her eyes. "Sirius Black is," his voice caught. "was, my godfather, and was sentenced to life in Azkaban for crimes he never committed."

And he was off, telling her all about Sirius and Pettigrew, his godfather's escape from Azkaban, and the events of his third year, minus Trelawney's prophecy, up until the events of that final night. He had just finished saying how he, Remus and Sirius had detained Pettigrew and how they had walked out of the shack, with Ron, Hermione and Snape's limp form trailing them when his voice cracked and Gabrielle was mildly horrified to see tears forming in his eyes.

'Well, this must not end well.'

"P-Professor Lupin — well, you remember I told you he was a werewolf?" She nodded. "Well — It was the full moon." She gasped softly. "When he transformed, Sirius did too. He turned into the dog and forced Lupin back." Harry scowled, the tears forming more thickly in his eyes now. "Pettigrew," he spat the name with venom and hatred that Gabrielle had not thought him capable of. "he took his chance and transformed. I should have gone after him, but I warned Sirius." His voice cracked. "If I hadn't warned Sirius?" The tears were falling freely, if silently now, and Gabrielle reached up and brushed them away with a delicate hand. "Sirius went after him," Harry said in little more than a whisper. "and I scared off Lupin but-but…" his voice faltered again. "Sirius walked right in to a pack of a hundred dementors." Gabrielle gasped in horror, before a line from an overheard conversation played itself in her mind.

"Diggory," she muttered. "zat is what 'e was talking about — you fighting off a hundred dementors."

"I wasn't fast enough." Harry hissed, and the pain and self loathing in his voice nearly caused Gabrielle's heart to shatter. "I had mastered the stupid charm, managed it in my first goddamn Quidditch match but-but I couldn't get it to fucking work when it mattered most."

"'arry," she said softly, rubbing small circles on his back in the most comforting way she could manage. "if zere really were a hundred of zem, it should have been imposssible-"

"But it wasn't!" He cried, cried not in fury at her, but quite obviously at himself. "I did it, so I obviously fucking could!" He was breathing heavy now, his body racked by sobs as he diligently pressed on. "I-I thought I had done it when my stag forced them back, I knew it had taken longer than it s-should've, b-b-but I-I thought I did it." He had to take a moment to compose himself before speaking one last line before breaking down completely. "And then I looked into his eyes — there was nothing to see."

And it was over, Harry practically melted into her as his resolve crumbled with the conclusion of his tale, and Gabrielle held him, cradling his head against her chest as she tried to sooth him in any way she could, not allowing him to see her own tears as she allowed Harry to cry himself out, and eventually, to sleep.

* * *

 **Authors Endnote:**

 **Well that was a bit heavy, wasn't it?**

 **This was originally going to be longer, but I cut some of the scenes to put them in the next chapter because, to be honest, I really just needed to post a chapter at this point.**

 **As I said above, I am sorry for the delay, but with (at the very least) the prep for the first task and the first Quidditch match (perhaps even up to the task itself) in the next chapter, I hope that will do a suitable job of making up for it.**

 **Please read and review.**


	23. Revelations

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership nor do I make any profit.**

* * *

 **Acknowledgments: Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story.**

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 **Self Promotion: I have a discord server where you can chat and read all of my chapters early. If you would like to join, simply copy the link on my profile and for . I had to write it in that format for the site to allow it on my profile.**

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 **Special Recommendation:**

 **If you guys are a fan of this pairing and want to see it done by an author who is quite frankly much better than me, go read the new story** **Twelve Days** **by TheEndless7. If you have read Vitam Paramus, you should enjoy the similarities.**

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 **Authors Note 1:**

 **Well, I managed to get a chapter done before I leave for training camp so yay to me! On the downside, there will not be another chapter of this story until early February. I apologize for the inconvenience but I will be unable to post or write between the 14th and the 24th of January, and when I get back, I intend to get a good chunk of a future as well as an ongoing project pre written.**

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 **Authors Note 2:**

 **Ok, I will speak on this once and once only as I'm honestly shocked the question has even come up at all. Though I know a couple meant it in humour, the question of "why did you have to kill Sirius?" has come up several times recently in reviews, with people even implying it is the main drawback of the story.**

 **Frankly, I don't feel that I should have to explain it as I believe it is quite obvious, but here it goes. Unlike canon, I needed a driven Harry, a Harry who was going to take winning more seriously and one that would grow up far quicker than he did in the books. The best way to do this was through the loss of Sirius, as like in canon, it served as a major shift in Harry's world that forced him to adapt. And yes, before anyone points it out, it was also a useful plot device in terms of the Harry/Gabrielle dynamic, though that was merely a bonus.**

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"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.'

 **Parseltongue.**

 _French/In Story Text._

 _ **Memories**_

* * *

 **Chapter 23: Revelations.**

When Harry dreamt that night, it was, to his great surprise, not of Voldemort, the tournament, his parents or the horrors that his mind's eye seemed to think awaited him, but simple, pleasant dreams that he did not remember the next morning, though they did leave him feeling oddly light and fuzzy.

Speaking of odd feelings, Harry awoke feeling far warmer and far more comfortable than he was accustomed to. He felt as if he was blanketed in warmth, and he felt an odd weight against him. His groggy mind did not immediately connect the dots and if he was being honest with himself, he was not entirely sure why he had awoken at all. It was true that he didn't feel particularly tired, but if his body had awoken him in spite of this marvellous comfort it was experiencing, Harry's mind thought it was an act of high treason.

As he thought this, he felt something warm and soft brush against his face before it seemed to tickle him lightly, causing him to twitch. "You 'ave to get up." Spoke a soft feminine voice from near his ear, causing him to groan as he buried his head into what he now suspected to be Gabrielle's shoulder. She giggled. "You are like a child sometimes." She told him, to which he only responded with yet another groan.

"And you're way too much like a responsible adult sometimes." He muttered, causing her to laugh softly once more before she began to poke and prod him lightly with a finger to jolt him.

"We 'ave to get to breakfast and classes. Come on, get up!"

She did not speak loudly, but something about the way Gabrielle spoke with so much authority jolted Harry. He groaned one final time in protest but he did begrudgingly push himself up into a sitting position. He did not remember falling asleep in a bed, though it was how he awoke, curled against Gabrielle with his head resting on her shoulder and their arms around one another. It was odd how such a scene in so many other circumstances would have been considered romantic and the act of two lovers, though in Harry's circumstance, it was simply a strong act of friendship.

'I sort of wish it wasn't though.'

This thought gave him pause as he looked at Gabrielle through bleary eyes, causing her to quirk a perfect eyebrow in question, a gesture that went unnoticed as Harry tried unsuccessfully to sort through his modicum of thoughts. Did he like Gabrielle in that way?

'Well, she does check all of the boxes.' A small voice remarked in the back of his mind.

'Yeah, but she's a friend — my best friend even.'

The fact that his best friend was a girl whom he had truly known for not a few months struck him as a rather depressing thought, but he did not linger on it all too much as he was far too preoccupied with sorting through the jumble of emotions that were crashing through him. As he thought more and more about the tall blonde girl sitting in front of him on the bed, he felt his heart rate quicken as some excess blood rushed to a rather inconvenient part of his body, a spot that was mercifully hidden by the covers that he had not yet removed from himself. Whatever he felt for her in terms of friendship or otherwise, he could not deny that the two mornings he had woken up cuddled into her had been two of the most pleasant experiences of his life.

"'arry." said Gabrielle, finally losing patience as she could tell he was clearly zoned out. He didn't reply at once so she snapped her fingers directly under his nose, a motion that caused him to blink several times.

"Y-yeah, sorry about that, I kinda spaced out."

Gabrielle simply frowned. "What were you zinking about?" She asked curiously, finding it odd how he would not quite meet her eyes as he answered.

"Just last night." He did not love the cover story but figuring it was more believable in their current context as opposed to classes.

Gabrielle's features softened. "Are you ok?" She asked, to which he nodded.

"I will be now." He said, smiling a rare, genuine smile at her as he could honestly say that though the weight of Sirius's loss still hung heavily upon him, he did feel somehow lighter about the whole situation. "Thank you," he continued, noticing that he didn't really have the words to say everything he wanted to say. "for everything." Was what he settled for.

Gabrielle reached out and took his hand, briefly giving it a squeeze before letting it fall. "Anytime." she said with a sad, if not somewhat relieved smile. "Anytime you need me."

Harry smiled back at her, trying to ignore the odd feeling that had risen in his stomach when she had taken his hand.

'What the hell? This doesn't normally happen.'

"Do we have time to shower?" He asked her, to which she responded by quickly casting the Tempus charm.

"If we 'urry." She decided. A moment later, the room expanded and suddenly what looked to be a door leading to a bathroom appeared. Gabrielle just shook her head. "I will figure out zis room one day." She vowed. "Zis breaks so many rules of magic it is incompre'ensible."

Harry merely chuckled, reminded a bit painfully of Hermione as he did so.

'Gabrielle is not Hermione.' He reminded himself as he looked between Gabrielle and the bathroom.

"Well, ladies first." He said, gesturing as grandiosely as he could from his seated position on the bed.

She obliged him, sweeping gracefully to her feet as she mock curtsied to him in thanks. "You are too kind." she told him. "I do 'ope zat kindness is not merely so you can sneak a look zrough ze door?" Harry blushed furiously.

"N-n-no, of c-course not!" He spluttered, but Gabrielle was merely giggling.

"Hush," she told him with her bright smile well in place. "I was only teasing; you are far too easy." And with that, she swept her way into the bathroom, though not before blowing him a kiss that made him blush again.

'Pull it together Potter.'

Harry's mind continued to wander as Gabrielle showered. He wished for the life of him the two arguing voices would just shut up and leave him in peace but before he could find a way to make them do that, the door opened and Gabrielle stepped out of the bathroom, her hair a bit damp but still perfectly straight and pristine.

Harry blinked. "How did you do that?"

Gabrielle looked confused. "'ow did I do what?"

"Well — uh — don't take this the wrong way, but you didn't spend much time in there at all, but your hair is perfect even though it's wet. I'm pretty sure most girls spend like an hour drying their hair and another half an hour styling it."

"Usually ze ozer way around, but I understand your point." Gabrielle corrected, causing Harry to roll his eyes. "I 'ave advantages that most ozer girls do not 'ave." She told him evasively, causing him to attempt to speak, but she closed the distance between them and rested a finger on his lips to silence him. "Hush," she told him again. "we are going to be late if you do not shower now." Harry nodded, getting to his feet and making his way into the bathroom, showering as quickly as he could and marvelling at the perfect pair of Hogwarts robes the room produced for him upon the completion of his shower.

When he exited the room, he was still trying to pat down his even messier than normal haIr that had been ravaged by the water, something that caused Gabrielle to hide a smile behind her hand, which in turn made Harry roll his eyes again. "Some of us aren't blessed with advantages that others don't have." He quoted, causing Gabrielle to only giggle harder at his futile attempts.

"Come 'ere." She told him, gesturing him forwards. She reached out and began to smoothly brush his hair into place with her hand. "I'm going to leave it ze way it normally is as opposed to perfectly tidy." She told him, seeming to have no doubt that she would be able to control his hair, which prompted him to look at her questioningly. "It suits you." She said.

"Be my guest if you want to waste your t-' but he cut off when she stepped back from him and he could feel his hair stick in a more natural position in a way it wouldn't do for him. "How the hell did you do that?" He asked her. "I was at it with a comb for like — five minutes and you just tousled it around with your hand and it worked?"

"Same answer as before." She said with a teasing smirk. "Come, we need to get to breakfast now if we would like to eat anything." She looked pointedly at him. "And boze of us do want to eat somessing." She emphasized the "both of us" bit and Harry quickly realized that he was not going to eat his customary two meals a day this time.

'I suppose she feels like she's won the whole talking battle and it's onto the next.'

From some, people like Hermione for instance, Harry may have been annoyed with this attitude, as he may have felt as if they were being bossy or controlling but with Gabrielle, it just filled him with an odd warmth; the same warmth he often felt spread throughout his body when she shot him one of her more luminescent smiles.

"Have you memorized the route from here to the hall yet?" He asked her, causing her to furrow her brow in thought.

"I do not know," she answered. "I 'ave only ever come here wiss you and 'ave not really tried ozerwise."

He frowned. "What about the first day you found me?" He asked her, having been wanting to do so for some time now.

She seemed to become a bit fidgety after being asked the question. "Zat was a very strange coincidence." She told him. "I did not even know ze room existed, I just sort of — found it."

Harry sensed that there was likely far more to that story as he could not see how one just "found" the room but he did not press her on the matter.

"Well, let's test your memory then, shall we? Lead the way."

Gabrielle didn't look thrilled about that suggestion, but she did oblige him. Harry was actually rather impressed, as by the time they reached the Great Hall a short bit later, Harry had only had to stop her from making one wrong turn.

'She's doing a damn shot better than I did when I first got to Hogwarts.' He thought, smiling briefly at the memory of him and Ron unknowingly trying to force their way into the out of bounds third floor corridor on their first full day in the castle. If anyone was looking, they would have seen his eyes darken at the thought of his ex best friend, but no one was watching.

As Harry and Gabrielle slid into their customary spots at the Ravenclaw table, Harry could practically feel the curiosity rolling off of Gabrielle's friends in waves; Sophia in particular was looking more than a little bit impatient for answers.

"If you imply anyssing," Gabrielle told the girl before she could start in on them. "I will contaminate your next order of makeup wiss doxy powder." This shut Sophia up in a hurry as Josephine and Sophie giggled and Harry smiled at Gabrielle as he shook his head.

"And how does such a prim and proper French girl come up with such dastardly ideas?" He asked her, causing her to swat his arm playfully.

"Hush you," she told him with a mischievous smile. "us prim and polite French girls 'ave our ways."

"Did somebody mention doxy powder?" Asked a rather chipper voice from behind them that Harry recognized as belonging to one of the Weasley twins.

Harry sighed theatrically as he pierced Gabrielle with his best accusing stare. "See? Look what you have unleashed on the rest of the castle."

"How did she put it, Gred?" Asked George, to which the other boy made a show of thinking deeply before he snapped his fingers.

"I think it went something like this, Feorge." he said as he looked pointedly at Harry. "Hush you!" The girls giggled as Fred turned to Gabrielle and immediately took on his most gentlemanly like posture. "Say, Ms. Delacour, all jokes aside, you wouldn't actually know where to get doxy powder by any chance, would you?"

'The joke products.' Thought Harry, as it had been one of the ingredients the three of them had been missing over the summer.

"I zink I would be dooming everybody in zis castle if I answered zat question." Said Gabrielle cautiously.

"Please?" Asked the twins as one, making puppy eyes at Gabrielle before she sighed.

"I know somewhere you could likely get it, yes, but to be frank, I am not certain as it is not somessing I 'ave looked into before and ze price would likely be quite high."

"How high are we talking?" Asked George calculatingly. Harry felt a pang as he actually watched the twins' faces fall when Gabrielle mentioned the ludicrous number.

'Merlin, even I wouldn't be buying much of that.'

"That's a shame." said Fred seriously as he turned to Harry. "Are you finally going to be back at practice tonight?" He asked him.

"Yes," answered Gabrielle before Harry could even reply, causing her friends to giggle and Harry to blush but quickly recover.

"Yes mother." He said, causing Gabrielle to simply look at him pointedly.

"You were going to be zere anyways, were you not?"

"Yeah, I was." He admitted, smiling sheepishly back at her before looking up at the twins. "I suppose the team will take it really well when their captain shows up after over a week of no showing, huh?"

"Alibi, remember?" Said George, causing Harry's chest to actually fill with relief as he had forgotten the fake story made up to excuse his absence by the twins.

"Most of the school might disagree with me, but you guys are saints, you know that?"

"We do our best when we're not off saving innocence and combating the forces of injustice!" Said Fred with mock seriousness as he and his brother puffed out their chests in rather good imitations of their older brother, Percy.

"Prats." said Harry through his own chuckles before he looked up at the clock and winced. "I'll see you girls all later, I've got to get to class. See you guys tonight at Quidditch." And he stood, draping his bag over his shoulder and quickly making his exit from the Great Hall, following many of his yearmates to their first class that day.

* * *

Nothing of true note took place that day for Harry as his classes were rather low key. Ron shot him a few miffed looks when he performed all of the charms work perfectly and Hermione kept shooting him dirty glares, but aside from that, the day was completely uneventful until Quidditch practice that night.

The practice itself went rather well, with the team pretty much waving off Harry's attempted apology; even the lone Slytherin on the team took it well. It was actually one of the better practices they had ran thus far and Harry knew that they would need it, as their first match would be taking place in less than two weeks time on the nineteenth of November against Viktor Krum and Durmstrang. He thought his team was ready, though privately, he wasn't quite sure that he was ready to take on the boy who most were calling the greatest seeker alive.

"Oi!" came the voice of George as Harry called for the practice to be wrapped up. "What the hell's that?" He gestured to a spot over the forest and Harry glided over to him curiously, looking and seeing, to his surprise, odd plumes of smoke rising above the forest.

"I dunno." Harry answered honestly. He had met quite a few of the inhabitants of the forbidden forest and though some were certainly preferable to others, there was nothing in there to his knowledge that could create fire.

'Well, centaurs can make fires, but I doubt they'd let one get out of control."

"I say we check it out!" Said Fred eagerly, drawing a nod from George as they both peered questioningly at Harry.

Harry glanced around to make sure no one was watching them before he hesitantly nodded and the three of them peeled off in the direction of the forest. Part of him thought this was a bad idea, but what could he say, he was a naturally curious person. Harry suddenly had an odd flashback sort of moment to the only other time he had flown a broom over the forest, when he had eavesdropped on Snape and Quirrell in his first year.

'That feels like it was so long ago.'

They flew ever closer and when they did near what appeared to be the origin of the smoke — a clearing up ahead, Harry gestured for the twins to take cover in the thick foliage of the leaves and branches once they got close enough. When they did fly close enough to see into the clearing though, Harry almost forgot to do so himself as his jaw fell open in a mix of shock and horror.

There, chained in a fenced area were the four largest creatures that Harry had ever seen. Any one of the four could have easily played with Fluffy as if the Cerberus was a stuffed animal. Despite never having seen a full grown one in person, Harry knew all two well what the beasts were, but he could not fathom what four dragons were doing at Hogwarts.

'FOUR dragons.'

He looked at Fred and George who both seemed to be peering at him in unmasked terror. They had all come to the same conclusion. In one way or another, Harry would have to do battle with dragons in the first task of the Triwizard Tournament.

* * *

Upon his return to the castle, Harry very nearly faked some sort of excuse and went to Madam Pomfrey for a calming draught. When that idea sounded unappealing in his mind, he very nearly went to the hospital wing under his invisibility cloak to steal a calming draught. He was panicking and had no idea what to do.

'How the fuck do they expect us to compete against dragons?'

He debated going looking for Gabrielle, if for no other reason than the fact that he knew her presence would calm him, but he didn't. The practice itself had not even started until six o'clock and it was passed eight by the time he, Fred, and George returned to the castle. On top of that, Harry had no idea where Gabrielle was. Well, that wasn't entirely true he supposed. He had a suspicion she was likely in the Beauxbatons carriage, but that essentially meant that Harry had no access to her spare knocking on the carriage door and asking somebody to fetch her. Seeing as most of that school thought of him as a liar and a cheat, he didn't think it a good idea to ask them for favours.

So instead, he went to The Room of Requirement and it took every last bit of his will power not to start throwing around the most powerful magics he new. Instead, he thought hard, thought for any bit of information on the Triwizard Tournament. Dragons were a problem, but Harry had a feeling the judges did not expect the champions to outright do battle with them.

'I mean, Dumbledore said there were safety precautions this time.'

It took him several hours of looking through books that the room produced for him but finally, he found what seemed to be a catalogue of past tasks in the Triwizard Tournament. It seemed as if the first task usually did involve some extremely dangerous magical creature, but that was not the only similarity. It seemed, judging by the rather obvious pattern he spotted in the book that almost every first task entailed the champions retrieving something guarded by the creature in question. This prompted another hour or so of research on dragons, something made far easier since the room just presented him with book after book on the creatures. Finally he found what he was looking for.

 _Though dragons are known wizard killers at the best of times, the majority of the deaths to wizards caused by dragons in the past century stem from a failed attempt to retrieve their eggs; the one thing that dragons cherish and protect above all else._

'Well shit,' thought Harry. 'this is NOT going to go well.'

* * *

Harry barely slept at all that night. It had been nearly three o'clock by the time he even attempted sleep and his mind was far too busy depicting all the gruesome ways a dragon could kill him to be at all interested in shutting down for the night. As a result of this, even Harry found himself little more than a corpse the next morning, something made all the more out of character when one considered that Harry could normally operate on little to no sleep. Despite that though, Harry thought privately to himself that it had been many years since he had been this tired as he walked into the Great Hall and tried not to slump into his ever open seat next to Gabrielle. When he saw her, he had a brief burning desire to tell her about the dragons. Two things stopped him though. One was her friends and the other Ravenclaw and Beauxbatons students around them, and another was the fact that to be honest, burning desires needed energy to be fuelled, and Harry found that he had very little of that to offer at the moment.

"You look exhausted." Noted Gabrielle with some concern as Harry groggily rested his chin on his hand.

"Mmm." He answered, sleepily reaching for some tea.

"Did you not sleep well?" Gabrielle asked as she slid a small plate of fruit in front of him. He could have groaned aloud. He could barely eat two meals per day at the best of times, let alone now.

"Not really, no." He answered tiredly as Sophia and Josephine continued to gossip about some new brand of shoes that Harry did not know. As discreetly as she could, Gabrielle leaned towards him and whispered.

"Nightmares?"

"Yes and no;" he answered just as quietly. "there were some of those; there always are, but that wasn't the main reason."

"What's wrong?" She asked, seeming to sense his unease as she peered more critically at him.

"Now isn't the time." He said heavily. "I will tell you," he placated as he knew she would interrupt if he did not. "I actually really want to tell you because I think I need someone to make sure I don't go mental, but not here." Gabrielle looked worried at his words, briefly squeezing his hand under the table.

He had debated on not telling her at all as her sister Fleur was direct competition to him and he knew that as soon as he told Gabrielle, she would likely tell Fleur immediately, as she truly did adore her sister. Harry had decided that didn't constitute a reason not to tell Gabrielle though as to be honest, he would not let anyone, spare Wormtail and Voldemort themselves walk into a fight with a dragon unprepared and frankly, he had decided he would inform the other champions himself anyways.

'It's only fair anyways, and that's ignoring the part where I'd rather nobody died.'

She peered at him critically once more, biting her lip as she did so but eventually, after an agonizingly long moment, she nodded. Harry did his best to soldier through the small plate of food that Gabrielle had placed in front of him. It was a rather steep task for him at the moment but he managed it, if for no other reason than to provide her with some form of victory during the meal. Before too long though it was time for class and after a rather uneventful first period, Harry made the familiar trek down towards the potions classroom that he despised so much.

He could tell before he reached the door that there was going to be some form of conflict. The Slytherin contingency were all gathered around the entrance to the potions classroom talking in low, hushed voices. The few Gryffindors that had thus far arrived were standing a fair bit away from the Slytherins, choosing to talk in smaller groups as opposed to a large contingency of their own.

'Well, this doesn't look overly promising.'

Just as this thought crossed his mind, Harry saw the unmistakable blonde head of Draco Malfoy look up and he saw his lips curve into what Harry thought was likely his most cruel rendition of a smirk. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the champion himself." he drawled smugly, drawing the attention of everybody in the corridor onto the two of them. "Good to see you, Champ! Finally took your head from out of the sand, have you?"

Harry's jaw tensed. "You're one to talk about cowardice, Malfoy. You're default rebuttal is to talk about running to daddy for help and you won't even open your mouth without at least having your two trolls by your side to back you up when things get too hot."

The corridor fell completely silent at that and Malfoy sneered. "There is a difference between cowardice and caution, Potter. Unlike some less astute names I could mention, I see no reason to run head first into danger." Malfoy's smirk crept back onto his face. "Even if your point has some merit, so what? I run from potentially dangerous situations, you run from the big bad bullies of Hogwarts who don't like you anymore. Who's the real coward here." Malfoy did a rather impressive imitation of a baby at the end and Parkinson among a few others burst into laughter.

"As a matter of fact," continued Malfoy, his smirk only creeping further across his face if such a thing were at all possible. "I even decided to make you some tokens, Potter. Tokens to show you exactly what we think of our surprise champion. Malfoy gestured for all of the Slytherins who had thus far arrived to turn and they did so. All of them were wearing lurid green badges with the words _Support Cedric Diggory, The Real Hogwarts Champion_ emblazoned upon them.

Harry just nodded. "I agree with the sentiment." He said flatly, causing the Slytherins to suddenly look far less amused. "It does make you a bit of a hypocrite though, doesn't it Draco? What happened to the load of Hufflepuffs being duffers?" The ghost of a scowl flashed across Malfoy's face as he too evidently remembered those comments in Madam Malkin's the summer before their first year at Hogwarts but he recovered quickly.

"I'll take a duffer over an incompetent cheat any day of the weak, Potter." He said coolly. "That's not all these little beauties can do though." he assured him. "As a matter of fact, they echo a statement I have never backed down from." He tapped the badge on his own chest, an action mimicked by those Slytherins behind him and suddenly, emblazoned upon the badge were the words _Potter Stinks._

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ok, so you're an immature, uncreative child who spends too much time and energy keeping track of my personal hygiene. I fail to see how this was supposed to get me all riled up, Malfoy."

"I don't need to keep track of your hygiene to know the truth, Potter." Spat back Malfoy, clearly growing annoyed at the lack of reaction. "Your head's been buried in the sand and your blood is dirty. You reek of sand and mud, I can smell you from-" but Malfoy never finished his statement. At the word "mud" and its obvious implications, Harry's wand was in his hand in an instant and he slashed it towards Malfoy, sending a banishing curse straight at the boy. He would have been hit straight on if not for Goyle shoving him to the side at the last possible second. Malfoy drew his own wand and tried to fire a spell at Harry, but he sidestepped the first easily, faked a dart to the right and leapt left, opening Malfoy up to his disarming spell which sent his wand spinning towards Harry.

"What is going on here?" Asked a cold yet calm voice from the entrance of the classroom. The atmosphere in the corridor changed almost at once as everybody turned to see the sallow skinned, hook nosed Potions Master sticking his head out of the door. Harry could have cursed as he saw Snape's dark eyes rest upon Harry and more particularly, the extra wand in his hand.

"Potter attacked me, sir!" Cried Malfoy indignantly, a sentiment that caused most of the Gryffindors to argue, though they were shot down by the Slytherins.

"That is enough," said Snape sharply, cutting across the bickering as he turned to Harry. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter. Ten for using magic in the corridors and ten for the attack of a fellow student and a detention Saturday night, 7:00 in my office."

Harry could have cursed Snape right there but he didn't, managing to hold in his anger, if just barely. The greasy git made his blood boil. To the class's dismay, Snape announced that they would be working on antidotes. If that was not enough, Snape was rather suggestive that one member of the class would be testing their antidote against some rather potent poisons and his eyes lingered for a bit too long on Harry. As a byproduct of this, Harry found himself paying more attention to his potion than ever before as his heart beat unusually fast. He never did test his antidote though, as about twenty five minutes into the class, there came a soft knock on the door and Snape opened it to reveal a shockingly beautiful, shockingly familiar silvery blonde girl standing in the doorway.

"Yes?" Asked Snape curtly, not bothering to ask Gabrielle's name if he did not know it, choosing also to ignore the dumbstruck look on many of the male's faces within his classroom.

"I apologize for interrupting your class professor, but I 'ave been asked by your 'eadmaster as well as Mr. Bagman to retrieve 'arry Potter for ze ceremonial weighing of ze wands. I was told 'arry would not be coming back to class today."

Harry could practically see Snape seething at this news but he evidently knew he could do nothing about it, for after shooting one last withering look at Harry, he looked back at Gabrielle with an admittedly annoyed, though far more neutral expression. "Very well, off with him then."

Not quite believing his luck, Harry hurried to collect his things before he exited the classroom with Gabrielle, sighing as soon as the door closed behind them and immediately noticing how tense he felt. Clearly he was not the only one who noticed, for Gabrielle, who walked a pace behind him, placed her hands on his upper shoulders and began to massage the area lightly, drawing another sigh out of Harry, this time one of contentment.

"You are very tense." Said Gabrielle as they continued to walk, her stopping the mini massage when she noticed much of the tension leave him. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," said Harry honestly. "just way too tired to put up with Snape's bullshit today, and that's not even factoring in Malfoy."

"What did zey do?" Asked Gabrielle.

"Nothing important." Shrugged Harry, but Gabrielle stopped in mid stride and shot him a patronizing look, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she straightened up to her full height.

"Clearly it was important enough to bozer you." She said a bit snottily. "So, what was it zey did?"

Harry sighed. "You just had to kill the mood, didn't you? Malfoy insulted my mother and sort of sparked a duel. I shouldn't have reacted, I know, but like I said, I'm way too tired for his bullshit right now. Snape docked me a ton of points and ignored Malfoy completely; I have detention on Saturday, too."

"This is ze professor who you claim has ze questionable hygiene?" Asked Gabrielle, causing Harry to crack a rather weak smile in spite of himself.

"Claim? Did you not see the git?"

She smiled. "I did, but I was mostly watching ze class, if I am being honest."

"Lucky you." Quipped Harry, causing Gabrielle to giggle as they made their way up the marble staircase and towards an abandoned classroom that Harry had used in his younger years before his discovery of the Room of Requirement. "Quick question," he asked. "what is the weighing of the wands?"

"It is a ceremony zat is traditional in ze tournament, but it also serves as a test. A wandmaker or expert comes to assure zat all of ze champions wands are in fine working condition before ze beginning of ze tournament itself."

"Ah," said Harry with a nod. "will they do the same for duelling?"

"You 'ave never actually been in a duelling competition, 'ave you?" He shook his head and she smirked arrogantly. "You 'ave no chance once we duel." She teased. Once again, Harry found that he felt rather uncomfortable if not unhappy when thinking about the idea of duelling Gabrielle. "Your wand is checked minutes before any duel." She explained, causing him to nod along once more. He supposed that made sense.

"Fair enough, I guess." He said before taking on his own best rendition of a confident smirk. "As for no chance — we shall see, Ms. Delacour, we shall see."

She smiled back at him, seeming to have complete and utter confidence in her victory. "We will indeed, Monsieur Potter, we will indeed."

At that moment, they came to the door of the classroom and Harry sighed heavily. "Are you leaving then?" Asked Harry, unsure whether or not Gabrielle would be allowed inside.

She shook her head. "Non, being ze sister of a champion 'as its benefits, though I will be with Fleur." She shot him an almost apologetic look and he felt his heart sink a bit at that but he nodded.

"Understandable." he said with a weak smile. "Well, I suppose we shouldn't keep them waiting any longer." And he pushed the door open.

The classroom itself was rather unremarkable, with most of the desks Harry remembered being there noticeably absent today. There were, however, several people gathered within the room. In a corner, the beautiful Beauxbatons champion stood alone, twirling her pale wand thoughtfully between her fingers. When she spotted Gabrielle though, her eyes lit up, though they did seem to do their best to shoot sparks at Harry, something that earned the older girl a glare from her younger sister. Leaning against a wall not far away from Fleur, a completely neutral, seemingly bored expression upon his visage was the Durmstrang champion, Viktor Krum. His eyes flitted to the two figures entering the room, though they lingered for only a second. Cedric was pacing back and forwards, throwing his wand up in the air and catching it as he did so. He seemed the most fidgety out of the three present champions, though he seemed more anxious than actually nervous. He smiled at Harry and actually gestured for the younger champion to join him. Before Harry could make it though, a loud, enthusiastic voice that Harry vaguely recognized as belonging to Mr. Bagman rang throughout the room.

"And there he is! The youngest champion, in the flesh!" The Head of The Department of Magical Games and Sports practically bounded over to Harry and seized his hand in an almost vice like grip as he shook it enthusiastically. "We were getting worried, Harry. We thought you would be late."

Harry had to resist the urge not to falter under the attention of the room as he responded to Bagman. "I'm sorry, sir. I hope it didn't cause any inconveniences."

"No, no," Bagman assured, seeming to wave off the mere idea of such a thing. "not at all dear boy, not at all. Come while we wait for Albus and the wand expert." he said as he led Harry towards a woman whom Harry did not recognize. "Harry, I would like you to meet Ms. Rita Skeeter of The Daily Prophet! She has been oh so eager to meet you."

"I'm sure..." he responded, trying to keep the ice out of his tone as he pierced Rita with the closest thing he could manage to Dumbledore's ex ray like stare. "It is odd though that she would be so eager to meet someone who she seems to think is the next Voldemort in training." At his words, all in the room but Krum, Fleur, Gabrielle, and Maxime flinched. Harry had a feeling Mr. Crouch likely would not have, but the man himself did not seem to be present.

It took the fashionably dressed woman a moment to respond. "W-why Harry, I do try to keep my opinions out of my writing. Anything I write is likely not the opinion I hold, just what I think would grab people's attention."

"If zat is ze case..." Said a soft yet firm voice from the same corner Fleur stood in, drawing everyone's attention to Gabrielle, who was looking at Skeeter with a demeaning though mostly emotionless look; it was as if she was looking at an insect, something she viewed not worthy of her time and attention. Harry had to resist a shiver, he did not know the kind hearted girl was capable of a look like that. "you should not write somessing wissout just evidence, Ms. Skeeter. Zat alone implies an opinion piece, and zat is ignoring ze more personal language in your articles zat indicate the same."

The room was near perfectly silent until Rita once again recovered, turning back to Harry, seeming to realize Gabrielle was a foe she did not wish to cross whits with. "Well, I am sure Harry here would not be opposed to clearing the air? An article to renounce the claims?"

Harry did not react for a moment and Rita seemed to take that as an acceptance, for she smiled and grabbed his arm, making for the door. Harry made to pull his arm away from her, but found it locked in an almost vice like grip. He shot a rather dangerous look towards the woman, but if she noticed, she acted completely oblivious. He was debating whether or not he should draw his wand but he never got the chance, as the two of them never reached the door.

"I do not zink it is wissin your legal rights to interview a minor wissout expressed consent, Ms. Skeeter." Commented Gabrielle, looking ready to block their entrance if need be.

Skeeter scowled, showing clear annoyance for the first time. "Nonsense, I am sure Harry is agreeable-"

"'arry?" asked Gabrielle forcefully. "Do you want to be interviewed right now?"

"Uh — no." He answered, thanking his lucky stars this girl was on his side.

"Zere you go." Said Gabrielle, causing Skeeter to begrudgingly let go of Harry's arm, though not before shooting a rather venomous look towards Gabrielle, one that the teen returned with an equally deadly glare. Before the situation could become awkward however, the door to the room opened and in swept Dumbledore, wearing midnight blue robes and being accompanied by the very man whom had given Harry his wand at the age of eleven — Mr. Ollivander himself.

"Good morning to you all!" Greeted Dumbledore cheerfully, seeming to ignore the rather tense atmosphere in the room that Harry was sure he did not fail to pick up on. "I do apologize for our lateness. I must admit that sometimes, in my old age more than ever, I seem to fall ill to curiosity and alas, today was one such day as I could not quite find it within myself to restrain the myriad of questions that I had for dear Garrick when we struck up a conversation about some of the more intricate pieces of wand lore." His eyes twinkled merrily as he looked around the room at all of them. Harry almost snorted aloud.

'Boy can the old man put on a show when he wants to.'

"No matter, Dumbledore, no matter!" Chorused Ludo Bagman cheerfully. "We're all just happy to start! Well, shall we get this out of the way and get some photos for the Prophet at the end? Ms. Skeeter does need some material for her small little piece on the tournament after all."

"Maybe not so small, Ludo." Said Rita a bit suggestively, but Dumbledore's eyes had found the reporter now, and Harry could swear the twinkle in his eyes, though still present, had dimmed a notch or two.

"Ah, Ms. Skeeter, a pleasure as always. I have found myself rather engrossed in some of your more colourful works as of late. I especially took interest in the one over the summer where you referred to me as an obsolete dingbat."

Rita seemed to fumble with words again before speaking. "Only the views of some of the public, Dumbledore."

"Oh, dear Rita, I assure you I understand and take no offence. As a matter of fact, I thank you for expanding my vocabulary!"

"Well," continued Dumbledore with a smile as he looked around the now silent room. "shall we begin then?" He received several affirmative nods and turned to look at Mr. Ollivander. "The floor is yours, Garrick."

Mr. Ollivander's grey eyes roamed over the four of them before he spoke. "I think we will start with Mr. Krum, if he would be so kind." Krum stepped forward and slipped his wand from his sleeve, handing it somewhat reluctantly over to the older man, though his hawk like eyes followed the implement as if it were a snitch. Mr. Ollivander twirled the wand between his long fingers in silence for a moment before he spoke in an admiring tone. "Hornbeam, ten and one quarter inches with the heartstring of a dragon serving as the core." Krum nodded curtly. "A Gregorovich creation if I am not mistaken?"

"You are not," Said Krum shortly but not impolitely. "one of the last he ever sold."

"A fine wandmaker, one of the very best I have ever met in fact. This wand seems thicker than usual, perhaps a bit rigid, but I have full faith in Gregorovich's work." He waved the wand, causing a flock of birds to materialize in the air and titter excitedly before flying out of the open window. Ollivander nodded approvingly, handing the wand back to Krum with a small smile. "Perfectly functional." He declared, allowing his eyes to roam over the three remaining champions. "Mr. Diggory, if you would be so kind?"

Cedric stepped forward, offering Ollivander his wand, handle first. The man took the wand in his hands and his eyes lit up almost at once. "Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it? Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn... Twelve and a quarter inches... ash... pleasantly springy." He waved the wand and wine poured from its tip as if the wand were a fountain. Ollivander countered the charm and presented the wand back to Cedric. "It's in fine condition. I'm sure you polish your wand on a regular basis?"

"Yes, sir. I just polished it this morning." Cedric confirmed, earning a few sniggers around the room.

His eyes fell immediately on Fleur, who had stopped her talking with Gabrielle as soon as Krum had handed over his wand.

'It's almost like she's trying to measure people on their wands.'

Harry did not know nearly enough about wand lore to do the same, though he figured it may actually prove to be a valid strategy.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, If you would do me the pleasure?" Fleur stepped forward gracefully and presented her wand with an overwhelming air of confidence. It took Ollivander longer to speak upon holding Fleur's wand and she seemed to grow more smug the longer it took him to do so. She seemed to think, like Harry did for the briefest of moments that her wand had stumped the esteemed wandmaker. A few long moments later though, Ollivander did speak and his voice was filled with interest and curiosity for the first time. "Yes, nine and a half inches... inflexible.. rosewood... and containing... dear me.. "

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela. One of my grandmuzzer's."

'Wait — veela — one of my grandmother's?'

Suddenly, memories flashed through Harry's mind, memories of the Veela at the Quidditch World Cup and the way they had drawn him in. Memories of how the boys drooled over Fleur but more importantly in his mind, Gabrielle. The warmth he had suddenly started to feel towards her in the last number of days.

" _An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela. One of my grandmuzzer's.'_

'What the fuck!'

He looked towards Gabrielle who was looking at him rather nervously, a look that turned into one that briefly resembled fear when she caught the look in his eyes.

Harry was so distracted by this revelation and its potential implications that he very nearly missed his queue. He did indeed miss it if one was being technical, but the expectant looks of the others prompted him to walk towards Mr. Ollivander and distractedly hold out his wand, not even managing to bring up the paranoia that would usually be bubbling inside of him.

Mr. Ollivander's eyes gleamed. "Oh yes, I remember this wand as if it were yesterday. A stubborn wand — holly and phoenix feather — eleven inches — it sat on my shelf for many years and is by far one of my two most curious creations." He shook his head and looked at Harry. "You will have to prove its aptitude, Mr. Potter."

"W-what?" Asked Harry, snapping a little bit more back to the present.

"This wand is bonded very tightly to you and the feather of a phoenix will serve only its master." Ollivander offered him the wand handle first, doing so in the same manner that Cedric had presented his own wand to the older man. "Something a bit more complex, if you could."

Harry didn't have the brain power to think of anything complex so instead, he simply reverted to the one impressive spell he was more familiar with than any other. "Expecto Patronum." He incanted, raising his wand and watching as the familiar silver stag burst from its tip, causing most in the room to gasp or look shocked. Harry had eyes for none of them though, as his mind was still filled with the possibilities of the days revelations and more particularly, the questions he now had for the girl who he sincerely hoped he would still be able to consider his best friend.

* * *

 **Authors Endnote:**

 **I know I promised Quidditch, but quite frankly, that's still several thousand words away, as the chapter I had planned is currently 12k and counting. So, I decided to take the first 8k-ish words and post them as this chapter. If I had waited until the full likely 15k+ word chapter was finished, I'd never have had this up before I left the country.**

 **For those of you who don't understand Harry's feelings at the end of the chapter, read his revelation carefully and if you still don't get it, it will be explained more blatantly in the next chapter.**

 **Next chapter will feature Quidditch, duelling and the first task, I promise.**

 **PS: I apologize if the accent in this chapter isn't great. I have somebody who normally does it for me, but they seem to have vanished off the face of the planet.**

 **If anyone thinks they can do better than me and would like to volunteer at least until my acquaintance hopefully pops back up, please PM me or express your interest via review.**


	24. Let The Games Begin

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership nor do I make any profit.**

* * *

 **Acknowledgments: Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story.**

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 **Self Promotion: I have a discord server where you can chat and read all of my chapters early. If you would like to join, simply copy the link on my profile and for . I had to write it in that format for the site to allow it on my profile.**

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 **Authors Note:**

 **Hello again. Sorry for the long delay on this chapter. It was supposed to be out a couple of weeks ago, but this chapter really fought back with a vengeance, and I wanted to make sure it was up to snuff.**

 **A lot happens in this chapter, so I hope it is a satisfying beginning to the tournament itself, something I know many of you have been eagerly awaiting.**

* * *

"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.

 **Parseltongue.**

 _French/In Story Text._

 _ **Memories.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 24: Let The Games Begin.**

Harry made it through the remainder of the weighing of the wands ceremony only by numbly allowing himself to be led through the motions. His eyes rarely left the figure of Gabrielle, who looked more and more nervous as the proceedings progressed. When the last picture had mercifully been taken, Harry began his path towards Gabrielle as a modicum of emotions crashed through him. Halfway to her though, he froze, as one thought reared its ugly head.

'What if her being Veela is the reason you feel this way? What if it was never a genuine friendship?'

Harry Potter was many things, but even he knew that chief amongst them, he was a Gryffindor through and through and he could honestly say that, despite the terrors of his still young life, he had not truly been scared many times. This thought however, and more so, its implications, terrified him perhaps more than anything else had ever done so before.

Gabrielle was his beacon of light in the all consuming darkness that had been his life since his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire but in reality, she had been that beacon since the death of Sirius all those months ago. If their friendship had been a lie, if it was magic that had been compelling Harry to trust Gabrielle implicitly… he did not know what he would do with himself, and he was too afraid, far too afraid of that possibility to hear it now.

When he was about halfway towards her, Harry changed directions on a dime, pivoting quickly and instead marching straight out of the door, not giving Gabrielle time to even call after him.

* * *

When looking back on this day in her later years, Gabrielle would be proud of her composure. It took a great effort to fight back the tears that threatened to pour from her magnetic blue eyes, but, surprising even herself, she managed it. Her relationship with Harry had not come without its fair share of pain. Watching him talk about his godfather and the manner in which he had lost the man had been one of the most painful things Gabrielle had ever endured, but now, as she watched the boy she could honestly say that she was at least beginning to love make his exit from the room, taking with him a vast number of implications that terrified Gabrielle beyond belief, she could say that the terrible stab of pain in her chest put to shame that night spent in The Room of Requirement.

Without thinking, Gabrielle made to move towards the door, but she did not make it near it before she felt a hand close around her arm. She turned, locking eyes with ones that were oh so similar to her own, eyes that would be identical if they were just a few shades lighter.

" _Let him go."_ Fleur advised her softly, her voice carrying none of the venom that usually laced it when she spoke of the fourth champion.

" _Fleur, you don't understand."_ Gabrielle hissed in rapid French.

Fleur pursed her lips. " _Don't I, little sister? I don't understand what it is like to feel alone, to feel betrayed? We both know what that feels like, and we both know that running after him would be foolish. One of us is just too stubborn to admit that fact."_

Gabrielle wanted to argue, wanted to do so more than she could remember wanting to do anything before. Unfortunately, there was a very large part of her consciousness that was screaming at her how bad of an idea that was. There was, of course, another portion of her that was screaming that Harry had a rather appalling track record in terms of handling stress, but still, Gabrielle could not will herself to rush after him and risk losing her friendship.

If not for occlumency, Gabrielle would have promptly lost the battle with her tears right then, as with every step away from the room Harry took, it felt as if he was taking just one more piece of her with him.

* * *

Harry did not know what to do with himself in the days that followed his parting from Gabrielle. Relentlessly, he threw himself head first into his training. This time though, he was conscious of what he could and could not handle. He worked hard, brutally hard, actually, but not once did he drive himself to the point of exhaustion, no matter how tempting the idea was. He worked tirelessly on his conjurations as Dumbledore had instructed, the shields, his current arsenal, and even, for the first time in his life, stole a book from the restricted section with the use of his father's cloak. The book was titled _50 Non Lethal Spells To Win Any Duel._ Many of the spells at the beginning were ones he had known for ages, but there were some, like, for instance, Expulso and Confringo that he had not known previously.

He also continued his extra curricular obligations as they pertained to duelling and Quidditch, acutely aware that the opening Quidditch match between Hogwarts and Durmstrang, as well as the first task and opening night of duelling were all fast approaching.

Before he knew it, the weekend was over, and the first task was only a week away. The tournament would kick off that very Friday with the opening Quidditch match. The next day, Saturday, would be the opening night of duelling. Sunday would host the academic tournament's first round, and the day after, Monday, November 24th would be the first task of the Triwizard Tournament.

When Harry awoke on the Monday prior to the first task, he resolutely set his jaw, determined to do something he should have done days ago. Harry, under the protection of his invisibility cloak made his way to the sixth year Gryffindor dorms and slipped in carefully. He located Fred and George's bed easily enough. He approached their beds slowly and cautiously. From what he had read about wards, he gaged that it was possible for a witch or wizard to be able to feel them. At least, it was possible to feel… something — the magic, perhaps, and interpret it correctly.

As Harry crept closer and closer underneath the cloak, he felt nothing, no matter how close to the bed he loomed. Finally, he stood directly in front of the curtains that were drawn over one of the Weasley twins' beds. There's were easy to locate, as there were boxes stacked beside them, likely containing joke prototypes and ingredients. Harry pointed his wand at the curtains and obediently they parted. He did not stay long, he simply dropped a note onto the twins' bed, raised his wand to close the curtains, turned on his heel and made his exit, only hoping that the rest of his plan would play out how he hoped it would.

* * *

Gabrielle waited at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall just as she had done every day since the weighing of the wands. She had hoped, once more, that Harry would come, but once again, she found herself disappointed. Two others did make themselves present though, and Gabrielle was not sure if their appearance brightened her mood or just reminded her painfully of Harry.

"Good morning, madams." Said one of the twins with a wink before turning to Gabrielle and getting on his knees theatrically.

He was joined by his twin a second later, who held out a rather plane looking envelope to her. "Madam, it would be our absolute honour if you could present this to your sister."

Gabrielle blinked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously as most of the amusement at their shtick left her. "My — sister?" She asked carefully. They nodded. "'ow do I know zat zis does not contain some sort of prank, or 'ex?"

The twins looked at each other with identical grins. "She knows us well, doesn't she?" The first asked.

"It does appear that way, doesn't it, brother dear?"

They both turned to her. "We'll swear an oath!" They said as one, but Gabrielle sighed and shook her head.

"No, no; zat will not be necessary." She sighed again, plucking the letter deftly from the hands of twin number two as she looked down at them critically. "Two questions: One, can you pleaze stand up? People are staring..." The twins grinned even wider, but they did oblige her and got to their feet.

"Your wish is our command, your highness!"

Gabrielle winced, remembering the day that Harry had referred to her by that exact term.

'You're a coward. Go and talk to him.'

'No, I am simply cautious.'

'And that caution will cost you what you want the most.'

'Shut up!'

"Second question. Why do you want me to give zis to my sister?"

"Because she wouldn't trust us." They said in perfect unison.

Her friends giggled, and even Gabrielle cracked a grudging smile. "Touché. Let me rephrase zat. Why do you want to get somessing to my sister at all?"

They looked between each other for a moment, seeming to internally communicate before the first twin smiled mischievously. "That's for us to know…"

"And you to find out."

"We promise…"

"It's nothing sinister."

"Just please — make sure she reads it."

Gabrielle sighed for a third time. "Ok, ok, I'll make sure she reads it." The twins both bowed one final time and made to sit further down the table, but Gabrielle called out. "Wait!" They turned, both raising the same eyebrow at the exact same time. If Gabrielle had been in a different state of mind, she probably would have marvelled at the feat. "Where's 'arry?"

The twins both seemed to deflate as one as soon as she asked that question. "Right this second, we're not sure." Admitted the second twin.

"He's ok though, we promise." Said the first.

"Yeah, we've been keeping an eye on him. He's not in the common room very often, but when he comes back, he looks perfectly fine. A bit tired, mind you, but nothing that's not normal."

Gabrielle nodded. They had essentially confirmed her theory that Harry was spending much of his free time in The Room of Requirement, as he had called it, but it did not seem, to her great relief, that he was exhausting himself this time around. She had tried to get into the room once, but it had not budged and out of a mixture of certainty that the room would not let her into his variant of it, and fear at how that interaction would play out, she had not gone back.

"Ssank you." She said sincerely. They both nodded, sad smiles plastered upon their lips.

* * *

Fleur had been rather baffled when Gabrielle had presented her with a letter that she insisted Fleur read. Her confusion had only grown when the names at the bottom were both unfamiliar, as well as completely ridiculous.

 _Madam Delacour,_

 _We have a most important matter to discuss with you that involves the first task of the Triwizard Tournament._

 _If you could kindly meet us in the abandoned classroom nearest the Great Hall at 7:30 this evening, it would positively make our day!_

 _Your loving admirers,_

 _Gred and Forge._

Fleur hadn't the foggiest of ideas who "Gred and Forge" were, but their promise of information, or at least discussion about the first task had interested her. On the other hand, she was more than aware that she could be walking into a trap, but her sister had seemed quite confident she was not, and Fleur was sure she could handle a couple of lustful teenage boys if that was the case.

She rounded the final corner and spotted the classroom in question. Instantly, she sensed a ward. She reached out with her magic, trying to feel the magic at play. The ability to "feel" or, as Gabrielle called it, "listen" to magic was a veela ability. Naturally, Fleur was not nearly as gifted with it as Gabrielle, not truly being a veela, but she had enough hints of their magic to decipher wards as rudimentary as these. A proximity ward tied in with an unknown, though admittedly powerful privacy spell.

Slowly and deliberately, Fleur stepped forward, slid the door open, stepped inside, and dispelled her disillusionment charm.

"Good trick, that." Came a vaguely familiar voice. As Fleur looked to its owner, she froze, her eyes widening as her face contorted in a snarl.

"You!"

"Me." Said Harry Potter, a perfectly blank, perfectly pleasant expression on his face.

She rounded on him, just barely fighting the impulse to draw her wand. "I should just eliminate you from ze competition now." She snarled. He merely raised his eyebrows.

"I would prefer you didn't try, if I'm being honest."

Her eyes flashed. "I would 'ave preferred you did not cheat your way into ze tournament! I would prefer you did not 'urt my sister, but-"

"Don't!" His voice came out strained, sounding rather akin to that of a wounded animal.

Fleur frowned at him disdainfully. "Why not? You clearly do not care?"

He pressed his eyes tightly shut, holding his hands to his temples for several moments that seemed rather painful before he spoke. "I fucked up!" He admitted. "I shouldn't have ran off, okay? It was immature and stupid, but…." he trailed off, wanting to say so much more that Fleur would not understand. He shook his head. "Now isn't the time." He got out. Fleur was, if nothing else, rather taken aback by the look of sheer agony that had flashed in his eyes during their last string of conversation.

"What zen?" Fleur asked hotly. "You 'urt my sister and are attempting to cheat through ze tournament, I'm not going to 'elp you."

For the first time in their conversation, Harry looked offended as an ugly scowl crossed his face. It did not suit him. "I didn't enter the tournament, and I don't need, nor do I want your help."

Fleur's eyebrows rose. "Oh? What zen?"

He took a long, deep breath before looking up and meeting her eyes for the first time. Fleur suppressed a shudder. His eyes, hidden behind those horrible glasses were shining, shining a pale, emerald green that seemed almost ethereal in nature.

"The first task — it's dragons."

There were several long moments of awkward silence. Then, Fleur laughed. She could not help it. The idea of fighting dragons was so completely ridiculous that she could not even comprehend it. But the Potter boy was not laughing. He was simply standing there, ashened faced as he continued to look into her eyes. Then, without warning, his wand snapped up from out of nowhere, and he was speaking, but not an incantation.

"I, Harry James Potter, swear on my blood, my magic, and my life that I am telling the truth to Fleur Delacour about the first task of the Triwizard tournament. So mote it be."

Slowly, when the boy did not keel over dead, Fleur came to what was, without doubt, the most terrifying realization of her life. More terrifying than when she had realized her baby sister was a veela; more terrifying, even, then when she realized from a young age that she would have to go through the hardest part of her life virtually alone.

"You-you're not j-j-joking, are you?"

He smiled a sad, sympathetic smile at her. Even after the crude, borderline vindictive remarks she had made towards him, he still genuinely looked sorry for her. "Sorry, I really wish I could tell you I was."

Fleur's jaw fell open. She stayed in that position for about five seconds before she exploded into obscenities, though Harry could understand nothing due to it being in French.

"Care to translate?" He asked her with a smirk.

She paused, seeming to forget how upset with him she was as she seemed to shrink an inch or two. "'ow could your ministry be so stupid?" Fleur asked incredulously. "'ow could zey let us — let you — a fourteen year old boy fight dragons."

"For one thing, I doubt they planned for me being in the tournament. For another, if it makes you feel any better, I don't think we have to fight the dragons, per se."

"What do you mean?"

"The first task usually seems to have the champions get past some kind of magical creature to retrieve something." He shrugged. "My guess is that we'll have to get past a dragon and steal its eggs, but I could be wrong."

'For both of our sakes, I hope you are wrong.'

Loathed as she was to admit it, however, his words made a shocking amount of sense.

"'ow do you know zis?"

"I saw them. There's four of them locked up in the forest, though for your sake, I'd suggest you don't go looking. Trust me, you don't want to get lost in there."

'Four dragons, one for each champion.'

It all made sense.

She did, however, have one more question for the fourth champion.

"Why are you telling me zis?"

Harry looked up at her, meeting her gaze without a tremor. "I'm telling Cedric and Krum, too." He informed her. "With the exception of two people, there is nobody in the world who I would let face those dragons without being prepared."

* * *

Harry sidled into the Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom deliberately after everybody else. He had hid out under the cloak to assure this was possible. He wanted so badly to speak with Gabrielle, to clear everything up, but he couldn't. His heart practically beat out of his chest every time the thought crossed his mind. When he entered, he felt her stare upon him, but he could not will himself to meet it. It would only be painful for him.

When Harry took his seat near some Beauxbatons girls who he did not know, Moody started the lesson, a rather uncharacteristic smile playing on his lips.

'He would take pleasure in this, wouldn't he?'

"Well, for you Hogwarts lot, I hope you've spent the last week of your lives preparing for today in every moment you haven't been practicing CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Most of the class jumped. "For those of you from Beauxbatons, this might be a nasty shock to you, but if anyone doesn't like it, if they'd rather learn what it feels like when a dark wizard casts the spell on 'em — be my guest. The door is that way." He pointed with a gnarled hand. "I'm sure, for those who don't know what's going on that you've figured out that it has something to do with the unforgivable curses, since Madam Maxime wanted you lot in on those lessons.

"Today," he said with way too much interest for Harry's liking. "we're gonna be finding out if any of you have what it takes to resist The Imperius Curse." The class was dead silent except for the Beauxbatons students who were not Gabrielle or her friends, whom Harry had informed about this a week ago rapidly muttering in French. "No objections?" Asked Moody.

No one dared to raise their hand.

"Right," he said, rubbing his hands together. "any volunteers?"

No one raised their hand.

"Alright then," his eyes scanned the attendance list. "Longbottom, you're first."

Neville was pale and shaky as he stepped to the front of the class and Harry could see his knees shake. Moody slowly and deliberately drew his wand, aiming it slowly at Neville before he incanted, "Imperio."

Slowly, Harry saw the changes wash over Neville. His back straightened, his arms relaxed, and his eyes blanked. To Neville's credit, there were several times during the ridiculously complex gymnastics routine that he certainly would have never managed without magic that he did hesitate, something that Moody said was "damn impressive" but he was never able to truly shake the curse.

On and on, Moody went through all of them and for an agonizingly long time, no one managed nearly as much as Neville. Josephine, Gabrielle's friend hesitated for a second on the first command, but from that point forward, she was firmly under Moody's thumb. Finally, when there were only a few people left in the room who had yet to be subjected to the curse, Moody's eyes found Harry. "Potter, you're up."

A sort of hush fell over both the fourth year Gryffindors as well as the sixth year Beauxbatons students. Harry actually took the time to roll his eyes as he made his way up to the front of the class.

'Seriously? The Beauxbatons crowd are gonna do that too?'

Harry's heart raced as he took his spot in front of Moody, a grim, determined look upon his visage. He had been as excited for this as he had been nervous. It would be a good test; a real test.

"Imperio." Said Moody, aiming his wand at Harry's face and suddenly, Harry felt all of his worries about Quidditch, Gabrielle, the tournament and Voldemort wash away as if they were never there at all. This was bliss. He felt weightless, felt as if his consciousness was just floating in the air, watching his body from the perspective of an observer.

"Jump onto the desk."

Harry's knees bent as he loaded up to jump, but as he did so, a small, persistent voice that sounded a lot like Hermione's made itself heard.

'Wait! Why would you do that?'

Harry's knees straightened.

'Because he told me to.'

'Yes, but it's rather pointless, isn't it?'

'Uh, I guess.'

"Jump onto the desk." Moody repeated.

His knees bent again, though this time, they stayed bent for only a second.

'It is a bit ridiculous, isn't it?'

"Jump onto the desk!" Moody demanded forcefully.

"NO!"

As Harry shouted the last word aloud, his knees buckled and he fell forward, gasping for air as he took long, deep breaths as though he had survived a near drowning.

"THAT'S MORE LIKE IT!" Thundered Moody. "You all see that? This boy fought it! He god damn fought it and guess what? He beat it!" Moody offered Harry a hand up. "Good work, Potter. Now, again, and I want everyone to watch his eyes. It's all in the eyes."

The second time, Harry had little to no issue resisting the curse. He threw it off on Moody's first command, something that earned him a round of applause from the gathered students. No matter their current feelings towards him, they had almost all felt the weight of the Imperius curse, and seeing a fourteen year old boy casually shrug it off was absolutely awe inspiring.

On their third run through, Harry had some more trouble. It took until the third command once more before he managed to resist. He just felt so tired, so drowsy. His brain felt like mush and on the fourth run through, he only half resisted the curse, slamming knees first into the desk as he tried to stop himself from jumping in mid flight.

"Zat iz enough!"

The voice had come from one of the Beauxbatons students, and after a rather terrifying moment of realization, Harry saw that it was Gabrielle. She was pale and positively shaking with anger.

Moody appraised her. "I don't think you've gone yet, have you?" She shook her head. He shrugged. "I'm trying to show all of you what it's like to resist the curse and what it's like when one's will is worn out, but if you think you can make as good of an example as Potter, you're welcome to take his place."

She did not hesitate.

Gabrielle gracefully slid from her seat, through back her sheet of silvery blonde hair and marched to the front of the room with her head held high. As she drew near Harry, he felt a sort of heat around her, as if the very air was super charged with her anger.

'Veela — birds of fire.' He remembered from his recent research, deciding that taking a seat was probably his best option.

"Imperio." Moody said, aiming his wand at Gabrielle. "Crouch." He commanded, and after a moment, she did so. Moody ordered her back up, and she stood. He turned to the class, seemingly out of suggestions.

"Dance!" Cried out one of the boys from Beauxbatons.

"Déshabille-toi" Called out another, which caused the boys to cheer in agreement and the girls to gasp.

Then, Gabrielle's face split into a satisfied smile as she merely twirled in a simple pirouette. "Pass." She declared brightly, and the class, as well as Moody, fell silent.

"You were never truly affected, were you?" He asked, sounding approving.

"Non." Gabrielle answered simply, and the boy who had called for Gabrielle to strip in French suddenly went pale.

"One more time!" Barked Moody, looking up at the clock and realizing their time was running low. "To prove it!"

True to her word, when told to perform a backflip, Gabrielle just smiled at Moody before politely declining, something that drew her even more applause then Harry. Then, the bell rang, and when Harry felt Gabrielle's eyes search him out, his heart leapt into his throat, prompting him to quickly slip through the crowd and out of the classroom.

'I'm sorry, Gabrielle, but I'm just not ready.'

* * *

"GOOD AFTERNOON LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND WELCOME TO THE FIRST QUIDDITCH MATCH OF THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT!" Lee Jordan's magically amplified voice had never rung through the Hogwarts Quidditch stadium with as much excitement as it did so that Friday. The stands, magically expanded to fit more students, staff, and even outside observers were packed to capacity, and the students of Hogwarts who had not attended the Quidditch World Cup had never experienced tension like this.

"In today's match, we have all four houses of Hogwarts putting aside their rivalries to let the best of the best represent the school in an effort to topple Durmstrang academy and its seeker, Viktor Krum!" The Hogwarts and Durmstrang students jeered at one another, which carried all the way to the dressing rooms, where Harry and his team were standing in a line at the mouth of their exit, waiting to exit onto the pitch. Harry had not said a whole lot, really. He had simply instructed the team as sharply as he could manage to focus on the game and not its star player, and that Krum was his to deal with.

"And ours!" Chorused the twins with manic grins.

Harry couldn't help it. He smiled back. "And yours."

"And now, the teams!" They heard Lee boom. "First, representing Durmstrang academy, I give you Blakonov, Petranova, Barkov, Ivanova, Karaganov, Dimitrov, aaaaand Viktor Krum!" Even Lee, who would undoubtedly be calling the match with a fair lot of Hogwarts bias could not help but exclaim Krum's name with absolute adoration. The Durmstrang players shot out onto the pitch, looking like seven bloody blurs in their crimson robes.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, give a warm welcome to your Hogwarts team!" All four houses, including Slytherin, exploded with approval, and Harry felt goosebumps rise up his body as he shuddered.

"Fleet, Weasley, Weasley, Johnson, Davies, Leclare, aaaaand Potter!" One by one, Harry watched his teammates disappear out onto the pitch in front of him until, finally, his name was called and he stepped out onto the pitch himself, shooting up into the sky with an absolute ecstatic grin upon his face.

'This is heaven.'

The two teams landed at center field and it took Harry a moment to realize that, as captain, he had to step forward.

'Damn, it's so weird — this was Wood's spot.'

"I expect a clean game from all involved." Warned Hooch. "Captains, shake hands." Harry, who had been looking at the ground before looked up and met Krum's gaze with such an intensity that the other boy's eyes widened. They shook. It was firm, tight even, but neither tried to crush the hand of the other like Harry had seen happen on a number of occasions. "Players, mount your brooms." And with a sharp blast on her whistle, the game began.

"And they're off! Dimitry seizes the quaffle at once for Durmstrang. Man can that kid fly! He dodges a Weasley, dodges Johnson and passes to Karaganov — OH! Beautiful interception from Leclare! Leclare streaking up the pitch, passes to Davies. Davies fakes Barkov, passes to Johnson, who's cut off by a bludger from Petranova…"

'Evenly matched, it seems.' Thought Harry as he and Krum circled high above. He knew that Krum was an extremely traditional seeker, one who looked to implore what was called the vulture. Essentially, Krum would circle as close to center field as possible, high, high above the game and watch for the snitch.

Harry, on the other hand, was a bit more unorthodox.

"And it's Karaganov streaking up the pitch. Karaganov passes to Dimitry — OH! What a beautiful move from Dimitry, who passes to Ivanov. Ivanov to — NO! Potter, the seeker swoops in from out of nowhere and steals the quaffle! Bet you weren't expecting that, were you, Krum?"

Harry had been handling the quaffle since the end of second year in practice. He had realized, or more precisely, Wood had realized he had a gift for chasing. Upon experimenting, they realized that Harry caught the snitch just as well while multitasking as he did while it was his singular focus. It was not illegal for seekers to handle the quaffle, though it was done quite rarely. Seekers had only combined for a handful of goals in the last ten years of international Quidditch, and it was considered so risky it was not worth attempting.

As such, the chasers, who had all been in a hawkshead formation were rather taken aback and nowhere near ready to jump back to cover Harry.

"Potter's going in all alone, leaving both sets of chasers behind him! Man, this kid can fly! Potter dodges a bludger, dodges Petranova, a bludger from Barkov and oh my! Potter fakes around Barkov and he's in alone on Blakonov! Seeker vs keeper, we don't see this often folks! Potter's in close, fakes — shoots — and scores! 10-0 Hogwarts!"

The crowd erupted as Harry rose back out of the action to search for the snitch again, smirking at Krum, who merely quirked an eyebrow in return.

It was like no game of Quidditch that Harry had ever played in before

It was fast and intense, but in a different way to when Gryffindor played its arch nemesis — Slytherin. The brutality of the game was driven by competition, by desire, and by pride. It was not done so through hatred, bitterness and prejudice. Harry thought it was a rather nice feeling, but that feeling didn't last long, as Pavel Dimitry pulled off an incredible move to get by George and score Durmstrang's first goal of the match.

In response, Krum smirked at Harry.

'Well played.'

"And it's Hogwarts back in possession of the quaffle. Roger Davies carrying the quaffle for Hogwarts. Davies to Leclare, back to Davies in an instant, Davies, back to Leclare, to Johnson, Johnson goes around and — ugh! She takes a bludger to the shoulder and off goes Ivanova. Ivanova passed to — oh! Leclare intercepts again and lobs to a diving Harry Potter, who is well behind the chasers off the cherry pick. Potter in alone on Blakonov again — scores! 20-10 Hogwarts!"

Harry rose into the air and smirked at Krum once more. The next time they flew past each other, Krum bumped his shoulder. "Focus on the snitch." He warned gruffly.

Harry just smiled.

The game was played at such a speed that Harry could only intervene so much. Fortunately, his team was more than capable. Durmstrang scored the next two goals, but then Hogwarts came back with three; two from Roger and one from Angelina, making the score 50-30 to Hogwarts. Durmstrang and Hogwarts exchanged goals next, bringing the score to 60-40, but then Hogwarts struck quickly twice more, and Krum called his team's timeout.

As the Hogwarts team landed, they were all smiles, though Harry did not fail to notice the glint of determination in each and every single one of their eyes. "Good start." He told them honestly. "The snitch hasn't shown yet, and I have a feeling it might bide its time. Fred, George, focus on the chasers, but if there's a break, fire a few bludgers at Krum, will you? He's just sitting in the vulture position the whole damn time."

"With pleasure!" They chorused.

"Watch for the modified Hawkshead with Dimitry at the point." Warned Lillian. "They seem to like that setup, and Dimitry is very dangerous."

Harry nodded. "They're all very good, but they don't work together the way you three do."

Hooch was signaling to Harry that the time was up, and Harry gave her the thumbs up to continue the match, hopping onto his broomstick and shooting skywards once more.

Durmstrang came out guns blazing.

"Dimitry slices through the Weasley twins, dodges Johnson, finds Petranova; Petranova back to Dimitry, to Petranova, to Karaganov — scores!"

Harry cursed. Lillian, their best defender had been taken out of the play, and after getting past the twins, Durmstrang had taken advantage of that fact.

Krum smiled.

Durmstrang scored again, then Hogwarts struck back, and then Durmstrang scored three times more. The score was now 90-90. Harry realized what they were doing. There was always a Durmstrang beater focused on Lillian, which made it nearly impossible for her to dive in and break up plays. He knew it was Krum's idea, and Harry thought it was time to spice things up for the other seeker. Krum had been having it a little too easily for his liking. He had been attacked more often by bludgers, sure, but they had posed no challenge and Harry quickly realized that if he could somehow rattle Krum, the rest of the Durmstrang team would follow.

Harry caught Fred's eye and dove.

"Oh, and it appears that Potter has seen something that even the great Viktor Krum has not! Krum is hot on his heels! Krum's Firebolt has the distinct advantage over Potter's Nimbus 2000, but Potter's in the lead! Come on Harry!"

Harry took a sharp corkscrew turn. Krum kept up, as Harry knew he would. His turn had taken him right into the path of Fred's well placed bludger. At the last second, Harry performed a perfect sloth grip roll.

'Take that, Krum.'

To his astonishment, the bludger, which he had been certain would be undodgeable for Krum merely streak through empty air, and his heart dropped into his stomach as he saw Krum diving for the ground at top speed.

'Shit!'

Harry was trailing him in a second. Krum's dive was rather more dramatic than Harry's, and he could see him leaning forward, reaching out, could picture his eyes scrunching in concentration.

'Oh, fuck!'

Harry just managed to pull up as his feet skimmed the grass. He had seen, at the last possible moment Krum's shoulder shift, the most subtle of indicators that he was about to lean into a turn.

"OH! WHAT A BATTLE! Potter fakes Krum with a beautiful setup, which Krum turns on Potter, leading him into a death defying Wronski Faint that Potter avoids at the last possible moment! Good god these two are good!"

Harry, coming from under the play decided to take advantage of the element of surprise. He came up behind Karaganov, snatched the Quaffle from his hands and lobbed it up the field to Davies, who quickly managed to score.

The score was now 120-110 Durmstrang, clearly, a lot else had happened during his and Krum's battle.. Harry had a feeling now that the match would not be lasting for a whole lot longer.

"Dimitry, now trying to break out of his own end! Oh, Potter fakes him out and steals the quaffle!" Harry had looked like he was about to rejoin Krum in the sky, but at the last second, he had switched directions, diving like a bird of prey and snatching the quaffle from Dimitry's grasp. He faked a shot, passed to Lillian, who he had seen out of the corner of his eye and dove, deciding it was his turn to try a Wronski Faint.

He heard the crowd roar, and assumed Lillian had scored. Luckily for him, he took a look up to confirm, and his heart stopped.

Though Lillian had indeed scored, that was not what had the crowd on its feet.

Krum, who looked as determined as ever was diving at center pitch, chasing what Harry could vaguely see was a spot of gold in the sky.

"Krum's going for the snitch, Potter's out of position and he has a faster broom; he'll never get there in time. Krum's reaching he's going to — no! What a bludger from Fred Weasley! Catches Krum right in the shoulder and knocks him off course. Now it's heading for Potter, but Krum has readjusted!"

The snitch was flying directly towards Harry. It was still closer to Krum, that gap was closing fast, as the snitch was flying towards Harry at top speed, nullifying the advantage of Krum's superior broom. One of them would either make a spectacular catch, or they would die in a head on collision, as the snitch was almost all that separated them now. It was a straight line race for the snitch.

At the last second, the snitch shot up without warning, and Harry and Krum turned their brooms upward as fast as they could. If it had been any two others, they may have both died in a head on collision at top speed, but though Harry and Krum both felt their flowing robes clash, they made no real contact, both shooting after the snitch, neck and neck.

The world itself lost sound and meaning as Harry raced Krum to the snitch. He had no recollection of Lee Jordan screaming at the top of his lungs while commentating the match.

The snitch flew towards the Durmstrang end of the pitch. Cruelly, the ball decided to fly right through the heart of the chasers. Krum decided to take a less direct, but safer route, dropping his altitude a bit and flying underneath the pack. Harry, on the other hand, lay flat against his broom handle and shot straight through the pack like a javelin, simply turning his broom to avoid chasers as he went. When they came out of the pack. Harry was in the lead, but barely. He thought he would have Krum, at least for a moment, until he had to dodge a bludger and they were neck in neck once again.

The snitch was shooting straight towards the Durmstrang goal post, but Harry and Krum were closing. Krum, who had longer arms and the faster broom, reached out for the snitch, but Harry knocked his hand away and leaned forward to reach out himself, excitement flooding him as his fingers touched the ball. At the last second, Krum grabbed his wrist, pulling it away and reaching out himself. Harry reached across his body with his off hand for the snitch. Him and Krum were both touching it, both fumbling it and then…

BANG!

The next thing Harry knew, he was laying face up on the pitch, his vision blurry as his left shoulder and right wrist positively throbbed with agony. Krum was laying beside him, clutching his right shoulder. That's when Harry realized what had happened. Krum, who had been on his left had slammed hard into the post and hurt his shoulder. Harry, who had been reaching across his body with his right arm had slammed his left shoulder and right wrist into the post.

Then, he felt an odd mix of elation and horror as he felt something struggling in his grasp. At the same time though, to his confusion, Krum stood shakily to his feet, raising his hand, which contained something gold.

Just as the crowd erupted, Harry managed to somehow clamber to his feet as well. He ignored the black spots that danced in his eyes and did his best to hold up his arm too, though it throbbed like hell.

The crowd froze when they saw the same golden… something in Harry's hand.

Harry could hear their mutters now.

'Krum's got it!'

"No, Potter does. Look at his hand!'

'Are they ok?'

'Yeah, but look at Krum!'

And then Lee Jordan voiced the question that was on the minds of everybody in the Quidditch stadium.

"What the hell just happened?"

"Gentlemen, open your hands." Commanded Madam Hooch, who had landed beside them. Obligingly, with terror in both of their chests as neither knew what was going on, they opened their hands. Two perfect halves of a snitch rose into the air, one from Harry's hand and one from Krum's.

'I still don't get it.'

But Lee Jordan did.

"UNBELIEVABLE! In their wild race for the snitch, Krum and Potter must have slammed it into the goal post and broken it in half! Each of them has a piece, the game is tied 150-150. I don't know how the points will be scored now, but I can tell you one thing. This game has ended in a tie!"

* * *

Harry did not know how to feel after the match. The consensus was, even from those who thought he was a liar and a cheat, that Harry had done spectacularly. After all, he had just equaled the best seeker on the planet on an inferior broom. On the other hand, they had not won, and he had wanted so badly to win.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for Harry, depending on how you look at it, he did not have a whole lot of time to ponder the game. His injuries — which he later found out to be a fractured collarbone and broken wrist landed him in the hospital wing, and whatever Madam Pomfrey forced down his throat, it knocked him out quickly.

When he woke up, it was night. Clumsily, he reached for his wand and glasses. His hand bumped something else too, but he did not investigate until his glasses were on his face and his wand was in his hand. The wing was empty, and after casting a spell to be certain, Harry found out that it was past eleven at night. Despite the obviously empty room, Harry had the distinct impression that he was being watched.

Shoving that feeling down, he reached for the other object his hand had bumped. It was a neatly folded letter and when he opened it, his eyes widened.

 _Harry,_

 _I know you are avoiding me, and I can not blame you, since you have all the reason in the world to be doing so._

 _I still wanted to tell you that I care for you greatly and say that you performed super well today, even though I know you are probably going to be foolishly hard on yourself. I would love to talk, but since I do not think that will happen, I still owe you for helping my sister, and Harry, whatever you think, I still want you to do well and stay safe._

 _If you can fly with Krum, there's no reason you can not fly with our scaly friends. Just remember the spell you had problems with that weekend after our talk. Fix those problems and you will be fine._

 _Good luck, Harry,_

 _Gabrielle._

'Good god, that's either the dumbest or most brilliant thing I have ever read in my life!'

And it was then that Harry resolved himself to mastering the summoning charm.

* * *

The next few days passed in a blur for Harry.

He beat a Durmstrang student who he did not know the next day in his opening duel of the tournament. Ruslem Ivanova had been extremely fast, extremely accurate and a power house to boot. Unfortunately, those were the only things going for him, as his arsenal was fairly repetitive, and therefore predictable. In the end, Harry managed to distract him with a conjured flock of birds, something that he was rather proud of achieving, before managing a sticking charm on his feet followed by an Expelliarmus to the chest. He had only suffered a small cut on his cheek, which he thought was quite good.

Cedric had been involved in the best duel of the day, hands down. He had taken on Claude Bourdain of Beauxbatons. The boy was clearly more powerful than Cedric, and his attacks were extremely well thought out. Cedric's defense, however, was some of the most sound Harry had ever seen, and he managed to fend off Bourdain's onslaught. They had duelled for a solid half an hour, causing the air in the Great Hall, which had been setup for the occasion, to crackle with energy. In the end, Cedric had managed to outlast his opponent, though neither one of them escaped the clutches of Madam Pomfrey or a stay in the hospital wing as a result.

Their third team member, Abraham Montague, had drawn Gabrielle as his opposition, and Harry had been rather conflicted.

'School or friend?'

It hadn't mattered as it had been a rather one-sided duel. Gabrielle had thoroughly humiliated Montague. He was all offense, no defense. Mind you, he had the largest spell arsenal out of the Hogwarts team, but he had not even been able to land a single spell on Gabrielle. By the end of the duel, he was bound in ropes, gagged, and Gabrielle was twirling his wand between her fingers, smiling coyly down at him. Whatever he had said to her, it had clearly rubbed her the wrong way.

'Damn,' Harry had thought. 'she wasn't kidding, she's good.'

He had beaten Montague during their duels, but he had never escaped unscathed, and often left bloodied and battered.

'She made it look easy.'

Her friend, Sophie, had drawn Igor Volkanovski of Durmstrang. It was an unpleasant duel, but at least it was over quickly. Sophie left unconscious, but it took only a couple of minutes. Harry had glimpsed Gabrielle shooting Volkanovski a death glare.

'That will be an intense duel.'

The next day, Harry had spent its entirety practicing the summoning spell over and over and over again. He was careful not to push himself to the point of exhaustion, but it was a very near miss on several occasions. He was up until past midnight working on the spell and when he woke up the next morning, the morning of the first task, his heart beat unnaturally fast.

That morning, he could not avoid sitting at the Gryffindor table, as his presence was required. As he entered the hall, there was a moment when his eyes met Gabrielle's, but he looked away quickly, choosing to take a seat in between the twins, who guarded him protectively, glaring at anybody who shot even so much as a glance towards Harry.

Harry did not remember what they talked about during the breakfast. He was too focused, more focused than he had ever been in his life. At last, McGonagall, Sprout, Maxime, and Karkaroff stood, and Harry, Cedric, Fleur and Viktor were led out of the castle and down the path through the forest that led to the arena.

"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked him in barely more than a whisper. He had never heard her sound so concerned. It did not suit her.

He managed to force out a weak smile, though later, he would never know how he did it. "I'm okay, Professor. I have a plan."

She nodded curtly, and gestured for him to enter the tent ahead. He nodded just as stiffly before walking forward into the dimly lit tent.

The other three champions were all present already. Fleur had her head down and was muttering to herself. Cedric was pacing determinedly back and forth. He met Harry's eyes and smiled at him as weakly as he had done to McGonagall. He had told Cedric about the dragons the day after Fleur. He had told Krum too, that same day, though the Bulgarian clearly had already known, even though he did not admit it.

Harry, after having a rather odd conversation with Ludo Bagman in which the man offered Harry help, decided to pace back and forwards himself in a corner. He nearly jumped out of his skin a few minutes later when he felt a warm, soft hand rest on his shoulder.

"I did not mean to scare you." Fleur said apologetically.

"It doesn't matter." Said Harry, a bit more quietly than he might normally do.

"You really did not enter your name into ze goblet, did you?"

Harry stared at her. "Of all times to come to that conclusion, you pick now?"

She shrugged. "I have thought not for days, but zat iz not ze point. If you 'ad entered to win, you would not 'ave told me and ze others about ze task."

Harry just sighed. "I mean — you know what? I'm not even going to morally debate that point, I don't have the time right now."

Her face took on a more serious expression. "Will you be okay?" She asked. Harry blinked, taken aback. She had done a one-eighty on him in days. She had gone from detesting him to worrying over him. "Do not delude yourself." She told him. "If you were to be 'urt, Gabrielle would be inconsolable." She glared at Harry. "After zis task, you are going to talk to my sister. Do you understand?"

Harry did not dare disagree, so he nodded. "I have a plan." He said in answer to her original question a few moments later.

She nodded. "I 'ope it iz a good one."

'Well, it's your sister's, not mine, but that's hardly the point.'

Harry was not quite buying that Fleur's only reason for concern was her sister. When he pulled the Hungarian Horntail from the bag of dragons, her face was still more concerned. He did not have to see it for much longer though, as she quickly exited the tent to take on her dragon.

It was agonizing not being able to see what was going on. On the other hand, Harry was not at all certain he would have preferred it the other way, either.

After a time, the crowd roared, and Krum was up next. He seemed to take less time than Fleur, though the crowd made more noise. Cedric took the longest yet, and the crowd seemed rather beside themselves if their screams were any indication. Harry's heart was racing now.

And then the cannon went, and it was time to go.

* * *

Gabrielle had been shaking by the time her sister had finished with her dragon. When she had first proposed channeling Fleur's veela magic into music, she had not been sure it would work. They had of course experimented, and it did indeed work, though Gabrielle was unsure if her sister had enough of the gift to charm a dragon.

She apparently did, though she did not leave the arena before causing her sister to scream in terror as her dress was lit by flames.

She had been okay though.

When the cannon sounded to prompt the fourth and final champion, Gabrielle was pressing her hands so tightly into fists that her palms were bleeding. Briefly, she recalled how Harry had done the same thing at the Quidditch World Cup, but she ruthlessly pushed that thought aside as they fell on his opponent.

'How can they let the youngest champion take on the horntail?'

When he walked out though, he seemed remarkably unconcerned. Gabrielle would have been as stunned as the rest at his perfectly blank, perfectly calm visage, just as taken aback by the spark of determination in his green eyes had she not known him.

'This is the boy who killed a basilisk at twelve. This probably doesn't even compare.'

By the time the whistle blew for Harry to begin the task, the blood rushing in Gabrielle's ears had dimmed the commentary completely. She was so focused on him though, that she still managed to hear his opening spell, and she sighed in relief when she finally received confirmation her cryptic message had been understood.

"ACCIO NIMBUS 2000!"

Gabrielle heard some laughter around her from her Beauxbatons compatriots.

" _Does the boy really think he can summon his broom from this far away?"_

" _It's in the castle. What a waste of time."_

" _Well, say goodbye to the youngest champion."_

'Please Harry, please prove them wrong.'

The dragon turned on Harry, but with a swish of his wand and a muttered "Avis" there were birds dancing around the dragon's head, distracting it.

'When did he learn conjuration?'

Then, to the astonishment of everyone gathered, they saw something in the distance, something streaking towards Harry at top speed.

Now, the whispers around Gabrielle were different.

" _No way!"_

" _That can't be-"_

" _Is that his broomstick?"_

" _Impossible!"_

The birds went up in flames moments later, but by that point, it was all academic. As soon as Harry took to the air, the dragon never stood a chance. Gabrielle had known he was good, even prodigious on a broomstick, but until she had seen him go toe to toe with Viktor Krum, she had not understood the true extent of his abilities.

Quite simply, Harry was world class at the age of fourteen.

This fact did not mean Gabrielle did not watch Harry fly circles around the dragon through her fingers, or that she did not scream at the top of her lungs when his shoulder was sliced open, or that she did not leap to her feet with tears of relief in her eyes when he held the golden egg high above his head.

The scariest moment, however, came once Harry was holding the egg high. The keepers of the dragon had evidently underestimated its aggression. While Harry's back was turned, the dragon spouted fire at the fourth champion. Gabrielle screamed as Harry was thrown from his broomstick. When he landed and put out his robes, he seemed perfectly alright, but his broom, his prized Nimbus 2000, fell to the ground as a pile of ash.

* * *

Harry was numb as he walked to the champion's tent. On one hand, he was relieved, perhaps more so than ever before that the first task was over. On another, he felt completely and utterly hollow. His Nimbus had been his first true gift. It was a representation that he was not only a wizard, but had done something right for the first time in his life. It serves as a symbol of everything he loved. It had been a part of his life for so long, and if not for shock, he very well may have sobbed for its loss. When he neared the tent though, his smile did waver, if only for a moment when he saw a tall, slim blonde figure waiting for him, arms crossed.

When she saw him though, not even the blazing look in her eyes could prepare him for what happened next. Bracing himself for a slap, a curse, anything but what happened next, Harry was shocked when Gabrielle charged forward with that blazing look in her eyes, reached out to him, and placed her soft, warm lips on his, causing his mind to go completely and blissfully blank as he melted into the feeling.

* * *

 **Authors Endnote:**

 **FINALLY!**

 **Feels so good to get that moment off my chest, as I've been holding onto that for over a year!**

 **In other news, THAT CHAPTER TOOK ME AGES! I hope you guys like the Quidditch match. I've never seen that done before and quite frankly, I spent days trying to figure out how I wanted to write it. That damn thing took me so many drafts I lost count.**

 **Anyways, things are beginning to heat up a little bit, as is clear to see. The next chapter will likely not be overly long, but it will probably be quite dialogue heavy.**

 **Next chapter will probably be out sometime in the second week, or early third week of March. It shouldn't take me long but quite frankly, after the hell that was this chapter, I'm not touching this story for a week :)**

 **Also, later duelling competitions will be shown in greater detail. None of the opening duels were overly important.**

 **Please read and review.**


	25. Coming Clean

**Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership nor do I make any profit.**

* * *

 **Acknowledgments: Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story. An additional shoutout to Discord user Kale for the extra help on this chapter.**

* * *

 **Self Promotion: I have a discord server where you can chat and read all of my chapters early. If you would like to join, simply copy the link on my profile and for. I had to write it in that format for the site to allow it on my profile.**

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

 **One quick note before we start. I really do appreciate all of the PM's asking for the next chapter of this story as it means I am clearly doing something right, but please don't leave reviews on other stories asking about this one. It doesn't happen often but I've seen it a few times now and though it is sort of touching in a way, it is also quite out of place and mildly irritating when I'm looking for people's thoughts and feedback on that story.**

 **This story will be updated when it's updated. I know my other ongoing stories are updated weekly, but frankly, this is by far the hardest story for me to write and each chapter usually takes me at least four drafts before I'm satisfied. It's not that I don't want to get these chapters out quickly as much as that I physically can't do so without sacrificing quality. I will promise you a minimum of two uploads a month from here on out until book 1's conclusion but I really can't promise any more than that.**

 **With that being said, I am looking forward to debunking a few false assumptions some of you seem to have made in this chapter. Always speculate but never expect. :)**

 **Thank you all for your continued support.**

* * *

"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.

 **Parseltongue.**

 _French/In Story Text._

 _ **Memories.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 25: Coming Clean.**

Harry's body had felt hot for several minutes now. Ever since the dragon had raked its razor sharp claws down his arm, an odd, prickly, distinctly unpleasant warmth had permeated that side of his body. Now though, as his mind seemed to stop working altogether and he suddenly forgot such trivial things as his name, where he was, everything that had ever happened in his life and what way was up, Harry felt a different, far less familiar warmth spread throughout his body. This time, it did not emanate from a limb that was screaming its protest with every receptor it possessed, it seemed to be radiating outwards from the soft, not at all painful area that he vaguely remembered to be his lips.

He felt pressure on both sides of his body and smelt a rather intoxicating, rather flowery scent that was not as unfamiliar to him as the myriad of feelings crashing through his body like an incoming tide. It was that familiarity that allowed Harry to remember some fundamental facts and piece together some others.

His name was Harry Potter. He was a fourth year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had just out flown a bloody dragon in the first task of the 1994-1995 Triwizard Tournament. His broom, the first symbol that he was more than just a freak, had been lost in the battle. That realization sent a sharp pang through his chest, momentarily shattering the protective bubble of warmth that had seemed to encompass his being. The warmth pressed in again a few seconds later when he came to his next two realizations.

He was in the warm, familiar embrace of Gabrielle Delacour and her not nearly so familiar, impossibly soft lips were pressed lightly against his own.

Before he could do much more than begin to respond, Gabrielle took her lips off of his and looked him in the eye. That blazing look behind her deep blue eyes faltered for a moment. "You are 'urt." She noted with some worry, gently sliding her hand up to his arm and causing him to wince.

"I'm fine." He responded instinctively, still not entirely back in a right state of mind.

She sniffed. "You would probably tell me you were fine if you 'ad been tortured for ssree dayz on end. Come 'ere, we are going to get you cleaned up."

"Shouldn't you be with your sister?" He asked as a certain degree of rational thinking made itself available to him once more. "I don't want you to-"

"Shh." She told him softly, briefly touching a finger to his lips to silence him before taking a tight grip on his hand. He winced as soon as she moved; she had taken the hand of his bad arm since his other arm was currently cradling the golden egg. Observant as ever, Gabrielle frowned and peered at him before waving her hand and causing the golden egg to float out of Harry's grasp and hover alongside them as she switched to his other side to take the hand of his uninjured arm.

Harry just gaped at her. "You just — that's not even-"

"I will explain it to you later… I promise." She told him, fixing him with a glare at least as stern as any she had ever levelled upon him before now. "We _will_ be talking later." She told him without an ounce of doubt or question in her voice.

Harry nodded mutely. "Gabrielle… I'm s-"

Again, she silenced him by placing a finger against his lips before leading him towards the entrance of the tent that he had occupied alongside the other three champions before the first task. "Not now," she told him. "'arry, zere is so much to talk about and I 'ave no right to be accepting apologies from you, so please, let's talk about zis later, okay?" The look in her eyes would have been enough to melt any resolve he had against her, but seeing as he had none at present, it simply made him feel even more guilty for ignoring her for nearly two weeks.

Still, there was a miniscule but oh so real part of him that worried all of the affection he felt for her, the feeling of warmth and drowsiness that had overtaken him moments earlier and so much more were merely due to her veela heritage, but for now, he decided to let it go.

So again, he just nodded mutely.

"You did amazing!" She told him as they entered the tent. "You did at least as well as any ozer champion and your flying was magnifique!"

Harry sighed, trying to hold at bay the sadness that crept up at the mere mention of flying. "It wasn't worth my broom though." He said quietly.

She squeezed his hand gently. "Of course it waz worth ze broom! Whatever it may 'ave meant to you, it iz not worth dying over."

Harry couldn't help but smile. He had missed Gabrielle more than he had even realized. Her mix of empathetic and logical thinking was something that he had found in nobody else and for the first real time that year, he reflected on what his life would be like without her.

Immediately, he did not like the images that floated to the forefront of his mind's eye.

Gabrielle had quickly dragged Harry over to Madam Pomfrey, who was in fits over the mere idea of bringing four of the deadliest dragons on Earth to a school. "Where did it get you?" She asked him, sounding more relieved to see him alive than anything else.

"And do not tell 'er you're fine." Gabrielle ordered firmly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, your highness." He quipped, calling back to that day in the Great Hall that felt like an eternity ago now.

Madam Pomfrey nodded approvingly towards Gabrielle. "Keep her around if you get the chance, Mr. Potter. I dare say she may be the only thing that may have a chance at keeping you alive."

Gabrielle was visibly suppressing giggles as Harry tried not to flush. "I thank you for your overwhelming vote of confidence, Madam Pomfrey." He said dryly before answering her previous question which she was now asking through her glare as opposed to her words. "My right shoulder's a bit uh… shredded, and I think I've been burnt on my back and maybe shoulders and neck."

Quickly, the matron hustled Harry into a private area of the tent. When she told Gabrielle she was not allowed inside, the Veela girl just glared back at Madam Pomfrey with such intensity that even the matron, who's resolve was legendary amongst the past few generations of Hogwarts students faltered. "Unless you wish to try and force me out through magic, I am not leaving."

"Dear, do you not think it best if you are with your sister?"

"Fleur is fine. She told me to go when I talked to 'er. She's just applying burn cream." Gabrielle mock glared at Harry. "This one needs more watching, I think."

"This one can hear you, you know?" Harry muttered, earning him a glare that promptly sealed his lips.

"Oh… well — I suppose if Mr. Potter has no objections? None — very well then... I suppose." She instructed Harry to take a seat and remove his top, something that made him more than a little bit uncomfortable, but it was an order he did not dare disobey under the two glares he was receiving. He did not look at Gabrielle as he did so, afraid of how she might react to his clearly underfed frame. There were a few scars as well, but he wasn't worried as much about those. One on his arm from where the basilisk had bitten him, something she had already seen and a few miscellaneous ones from some typical falls as a child. There was one on his back from when Vernon had gotten a bit out of control with the belt the night after Harry had turned his teacher's hair blue, but he doubted Gabrielle would pick up on where that particular one had come from. Having not been looking up at her, Harry did not see her eyes widen upon it for the briefest of seconds before her features were schooled into an impressively impassive mask.

Madam Pomfrey made tisk tisk sounds for a moment. "The burns are not too bad; some burn cream will clear them up fast enough. The shoulder is more of an issue, but the cut will need to be cleaned before I can do much about it." She gestured to the green residue in his cut.

"Is that… venom?" Harry asked, trying to hide any nervousness that tried its utmost best to creep into his voice.

"In a sense, I suppose." Madam Pomfrey answered. "It will do no damage to you. Its purpose is to prevent healing; it's a natural feature of some of the nastier dragon breeds to help them hunt and the like. It is rather magic resistant, so you may wish to remove it manually." She paused at a moan of pain from somewhere outside their area.

"Go help the others." Harry told her. "I can clean this out and put on burn cream and such while you check on them and then you can heal my shoulder."

Madam Pomfrey hesitated but when Gabrielle told her that she would make sure Harry did as he said, she begrudgingly left.

"Give me zat." Gabrielle told Harry, snatching the bottle of whatever liquid was meant to clean his cut and wandlessly summoning a cloth. Harry debated telling her that he could do it himself, but truthfully, it would probably be faster for someone with two functioning arms to do it and he had a very strong feeling that his protests would not be taken well. As if she could read what he was thinking, Gabrielle smirked. "You're learning." She complimented him with some amusement, to which he rolled his eyes.

"This is going to burn like hell, isn't it?"

"Oui."

"Wonderful."

Personally, Harry thought the burning inflicted by the potion or whatever it was that Gabrielle rubbed gently onto his cut was worse than the actual cut had been itself, but he did not say that. He grit his teeth through the entire ordeal and did not so much as make a sound, though there were some near misses. When Gabrielle had finally finished, Harry let out a sigh of relief and let the tension leave his shoulders.

Gabrielle knelt down beside him and gently rubbed his back in a soothing manner. Harry felt an odd warmth in every spot her hand met his bare skin. He had never had somebody do this before, but it almost seemed to work too well.

"Your pain tolerance is much higher zan any fourteen year old boy's should be." She observed with a frown. "Most fully grown wizards moan and groan zeir way through using zat potion to clean poisoned or infected cuts." The look she gave him was far too searching and her touch paused on the faint scar on his back for an infinitesimal amount of time too long.

"I don't suppose there's any point in me coming up with a cover story, is there?" He asked, meeting her stare for the first time in several minutes.

"No," she said softly. "zere is not."

He chuckled darkly. "You are entirely too perceptive."

Her eyes darkened marginally. "Not really, I 'ave seen similar scars before, I know where zey come from." She paused. "We… don't 'ave to talk about zat, at least not all of it, but you're not denying it, are you?"

Harry hesitated only a second. "No," he admitted quietly. "I'm not."

From her kneeling position beside him, Gabrielle briefly paused the circles she was drawing on his back to wrap her arms gently around him, being careful not to apply too much pressure to his injured side. She let go far too quickly for Harry's liking, which in and of itself was odd since he had never liked hugs, when Madam Pomfrey re-entered the quarters.

Ten or so minutes later, Harry exited the private room with his shoulder bandaged and a guarantee that it would be better by the next morning and burn cream finally soaking into his skin. When he exited, he and Gabrielle quickly came face to face with her older sister. Harry tensed. He knew that Fleur did not approve of him even after she had deduced the truth about the tournament.

Gabrielle took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze and Fleur spoke, surprising Harry a great deal with her first question, let alone the fact that it was directed at him, not Gabrielle.

"Are you ok, 'arry?"

'First name and all?'

"Uh… yeah, shoulder's a bit sore but fine aside from that. What about you?"

"Just a few burns." She told him. "A bit of burn cream will 'eal that and I 'ave… other things to 'elp with zat."

'Veela… birds of fire.'

Clearly, Gabrielle had noticed his contemplation. "Yes," she told him. "it is probably exactly what you are ssinking."

"Sometimes I feel like you're using Legilimency on me." Harry muttered quietly enough for only her to hear as they exited the tent to await the champions' scores.

"I would never!" Gabrielle responded vehemently.

"But there is something," Harry pressed. "something related to… you know?"

"Me being Veela?" She asked bluntly, and Harry nodded reluctantly. "Yes," she admitted. "zere are a number of ssings, but we will talk about zose soon; we need to get ze scores for ze two of you."

Suddenly, some of the confidence that Fleur always seemed to carry flickered. "I did not do well." She said, clearly disappointed.

"What do you mean you did not do well?" Gabrielle asked exasperatedly. "Do you 'ave any idea 'ow difficult zat spell is for one meant to use it? Let alone one who isn't?"

"I still should not 'ave got burnt."

Harry snorted. "Delacour-"

"Fleur."

Harry paused. "What?"

"Call me Fleur." She told him. "It does not seem like my sister is getting rid of you anytime soon, so we may as well be civil with one anozer."

Harry grinned. "Fair enough, call me Harry then. Anyways, Fleur, at least you didn't get your shoulder ripped apart and thrown off of your broomstick."

"Zat won't count though." Gabrielle pointed out. "Zat was after ze task was done because you were naive enough to turn your back."

Harry flushed. "Well, in my defense, I thought the dragon keepers would do a better job at — you know — their job."

Fleur sniffed. "Zis would never 'ave 'appened at Beauxbatons."

"You lot probably wouldn't have been stupid enough to bring dragons." Harry muttered, to which Gabrielle giggled and even Fleur cracked a grudging smile.

"The scores are in!" Bagman cried out to the crowd with his voice magically magnified. The crowd fell silent at once. "Firstly, Mr. Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts!" Bagman bowed to the four other judges who raised their wands and fired their scores into the air. A seven from Crouch, an eight from Dumbledore, a six from Karkaroff, a seven from Maxime, and an eight from Bagman. "Cedric Diggory has earned 36 points!" The Hogwarts students erupted in approval and a moment later, Bagman was moving on.

"For Ms. Fleur Delacour!" He gestured in a wide, sweeping sort of way towards the four other judges. Crouch shot an eight into the air, Dumbledore a nine, Maxime a ten, Karkaroff a five and Bagman an eight. Gabrielle was suddenly speaking very fast in French, cursing, Harry assumed, but he didn't know enough French to be sure. "Ms. Fleur Delacour finishes with a score of 40 points!" Bagman told the crowd, prompting a loud celebration from the Beauxbatons students and polite applause from the Durmstrang and Hogwarts contingents.

"He is disgusting!" Gabrielle hissed with a glare towards Karkaroff. "I bet he will give Krum a ten and you less than seven." She told Harry.

"Next," said Bagman. "Mr. Viktor Krum from Durmstrang!" An eight from Crouch, an eight from Dumbledore, a ten from Karkaroff, a seven from Maxime and a seven from Bagman. "And equaling Fleur Delecour's impressive score, Viktor Krum has also earned forty points!" The Durmstrang students all got up and stomped loudly as they chanted in a language Harry did not know. Their rather zealous reaction drowned out pretty much all others. Harry suddenly found himself shaking, if only a bit, and Gabrielle's grip on his hand tightened, if only slightly.

"And last, but certainly not least, Mr. Harry Potter of Hogwarts!" Harry did not fail to notice the odd emphasis Bagman put on his name. Crouch fired up an eight, Dumbledore a nine, Karkaroff a five, Maxime an eight and Bagman a ten." Again, Gabrielle hissed at Karkaroff in a string of French that drew a raised eyebrow from her sister, who looked rather amusedly between Harry and her younger sister.

"So we have ourselves a three way tie!" Bagman said, beaming at the crowd. "Harry Potter, Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour have all earned 40 points! Cedric Diggory trails by only a few at 36!" Harry allowed the tension that he had not even realized he had been carrying to all rush out of him in that exact moment. The release was such that his legs nearly buckled. Gabrielle's arm slid around his waist to stabilize him and he just leaned his weight against her for a few long seconds, allowing himself to exalt in one, simple fact.

It was over.

His relief lasted all of thirty seconds, as his former best mate, Ron Weasley, chose that exact moment to shuffle awkwardly towards him. Harry tensed once more, and from beside him, Gabrielle let go of his hand and wrapped a rather protective arm around Harry's shoulders and sent Ron a glare that could have frozen a volcanic eruption. "What do you want?" She asked him coldly.

"I… uh…" he stuttered. "was wondering if I could talk to Harry for a minute?"

"Anyssing you'd like to tell 'im can be said in front of us." Gabrielle said coldly, gesturing between her and her sister. "Right, 'arry?"

Harry hesitated, weighing Ron's pleading look against Gabrielle's insistent tone and the events of the past three weeks.

In the end, it wasn't really that hard to make his decision. He nodded.

Ron faltered but just as a true Gryffindor would do, he set his jaw and stared Harry in the eye. "I fucked up." He said bluntly. "Harry… mate… I'm so sorry. I've been a blithering idiot since your name came out of that stupid cup. I… I never really thought you put your name in, at least I don't think I did. I was just… just…"

"Jealous." Harry finished quietly, remembering what Gabrielle had theorized on the matter all those weeks ago. Harry was sure she had her flaws, though he had yet to truly find any, but one thing she was extremely talented at was reading the emotions of those around her.

Ron looked at the ground. "Yeah," he muttered. "that." He hesitated, looking back up at Harry. "Can you… can you forgive me?"

Harry now felt Gabrielle tense beside him. He knew that she was not as forgiving as he was. His initial instinct was to tell Ron that of course he could forgive him, that in reality, there had been nothing to forgive.

Before the death of Sirius and the months that followed, Harry was sure that would have been the decision he came to. Now though, he met Ron's gaze with an intense variant of his own that made the gangly red-head flinch. He would not just forget everything. It was time to truly see who his friends were.

"Of course I forgive you." Harry said neutrally. He felt Gabrielle's arm tighten marginally and watched Ron's shoulders sag with relief but before either could react further he continued. "I don't forget though." His voice was not cold, but there was certainly a cool undertone there. "I forgive your actions, but I'm not going to forget about them. I won't hold them against you, but we're not going to be best mates either, at least not right away. You're going to have to earn that again."

Ron hung his head but nodded. "Better than I deserve." He muttered, stepping forward and offering Harry his hand a bit shakily. "To a new start then?"

Harry smiled; it was a touch forced, Ron did not notice. "To a new start."

* * *

An hour or so later, Harry found himself alone with Gabrielle in The Room of Requirement. Internally he was fuming, but he tried not to let it show. During the lunch that proceeded the first task, Harry had found out that unlike his other former friend, Hermione showed no signs of apologizing anytime soon. Logical as she was, she could not see why the task, which was always going to happen no matter what, had seemed to have convinced most of the school that Harry was innocent. Luckily, very few if any students were persuaded by her this time, but it hurt more than he cared to admit to have negative closure on the matter of Hermione. He was now quite certain that even if his friendship with Ron managed to reform, Harry would never call Hermione Granger a close friend again.

"You should stop worrying about 'er." Gabrielle told him gently after allowing him to self contemplate for a few minutes.

He sighed. "Probably, but it's really not that easy."

"I know it isn't, but frankly, she does not deserve your forgiveness."

Harry nodded mutely, closing his eyes and gathering his thoughts back onto the matter at hand. "I'll manage." He said after a moment's delay, and he was pretty sure that it was even true.

Gabrielle peered at him critically for several seconds before nodding, taking a seat beside him on the couch that the room had conjured up for them and turning to him with her hands folded in her lap. "Well," she sighed, "where do I even start?"

"The Veela bit, preferably." Harry said a bit awkwardly.

"Yes, I suppose zat would be a good place to start." She hesitated. "Am I right in assuming zat ze reason why you avoided me was because you thought any of your feelings could 'ave been because I was a Veela?"

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry," he began, "that was a stupid-"

"Hush." Gabrielle told him, holding up a hand for silence. "It was not an unreasonable assumption to make for somebody who knows nossing about Veela."

"I did do some research." Harry said a bit sheepishly.

Gabrielle just rolled her eyes. "And I am going to assume it was entirely un'elpful?"

Harry nodded. "Pretty much."

"Well, let's start wiss zat. What do you know about Veela?"

"Veela are — uh… I don't know if this term is offensive so tell me if it is but… half humans." Gabrielle nodded encouragingly, signifying she took no offence and prompting him to go onwards. "The best guess that wizards have is that veela are descended from some sort of ancient bird of fire. They're naturally gifted with any magic concerning fire, can conjure fire wandlessly, can sort of shape shift into an avian form when angered — though it's not known whether that is controllable or not, and they have a sort of allure that attracts men." He paused. "That's about it, but I have no idea if any of that is actually right."

"Most of it is." Gabrielle told him. "It's just missing an absurd number of details. I can not tell you from who or what we are descended from because even we do not know for sure, though we do 'ave more specific assumptions zan witches and wizards. Ze part about fire is true, but extremely understated." She paused, as if trying to deduce how best to explain something. "Take out your wand." She told him, prompting a rather confused looking Harry to follow. Gabrielle had hers out too and was holding it straight up. "On the count of three," she told him. "I want you to verbally cast the Lumos charm. Ready? One, two, three."

"Lumos." They both said as one. Gabrielle's wand fully lit faster than Harry's even sparked and his jaw fell open. "How did you-"

"Zese are ze two main differences between 'uman magic and Veela magic." She explained to him. "My magic is what we call soft magic. It is far less restrictive and flows far faster." She held up her other hand and a ball of light quickly took form in her palm. "It is also why I can do wandless magic; it flows freely through my body wissout restraint." She extinguished the light and gestured between her wand and Harry's. "You will notice zat your light is brighter." She told him. "Soft magic is faster acting and it flows faster, but it is less powerful on a spell to spell basis zan witches and wizards' magic."

"Does it make a big difference?"

Gabrielle shrugged. "Not in most areas. If we were to duel and our spells met in ze air, yours would overpower mine likely every time. It is not really a disadvantage though, since I can cast much faster, so it is actually quite even in duels and such. Ozer zan zat, soft magic is better for zings like 'ealing, enchanting and certain charms. Anyssing that requires a lot of control, subtlety and understanding of your magic. Certain transfigurations are much more difficult, but nossing that we would use on an everyday basis. Transfiguring somessing massive would take more energy for me zan it would for you, ssings like that."

"And the fire bit?"

Gabrielle's fingers sparked as if to answer Harry's question. "It is more complicated zan conjuring fire though." She told him. "Ze warmer ze environment, ze faster my magic will flow. Being in a very cold, very wet environment will slow down ze flow of my magic."

Harry nodded. "Makes sense why you live in France."

She giggled. "Yes, England is a bit cold. It's not really cold enough to slow down my magic as much as ze wet does, but it's not enough to cause more zan a tiny effect." She shrugged. "If I were to go to ze bottom of ze lake or somessing…" she trailed off.

"Your magic wouldn't work great?"

"Non."

"So, what can you do with wandless magic?" He asked her, suddenly intensely interested.

She shrugged. "Plenty of ssings. Transfiguration is extremely difficult and I 'ave never managed more zan first or second year transfigurations, but I can do plenty of charms wissout a wand." She got a rather mischievous expression as she unfolded her hand and faced it palm up. Harry's wand shot from his loose fingered grip and smacked into Gabrielle's open hand. She giggled once more at the look of incredulity that marred Harry's face before tossing it back to him. "It is very tiring though." She told him. "Not somessing as simple as zat, but if I do a lot of it, it drains me very fast."

A sudden thought had crossed his mind and he paused for a second before hesitantly asking it. "Is-is it possible for a witch or wizard to learn wandless magic?"

Gabrielle paused. "I ssink so." She told him. "Zere are stories from 'istory of witches and wizards doing it." She shrugged. "I do not ssink any witch or wizard in the UK can do it right now. There just isn't anybody to teach of any of you since very few witches or wizards can do it." Harry frowned, trying to best figure out how to ask his next question or if he should ask it at all. Luckily for him, he didn't have to. "You want me to try and teach you?" She asked him, a fond, exasperated half smile crossing her angelic face.

"How do you do that?" He asked with a roll of his eyes.

"We will get to zat soon." She assured him. "I can try if you would really like." She said. "Not now though. We need to work more on your occlumency before we play around wiss wandless magic. It will probably 'elp you do it for one ssing, and for anozer, it will be a lot more useful to you."

"I'm guessing it'll be devilishly difficult?"

"Zat is if you can do it." She told him bluntly. That was another thing about Gabrielle. She was realistic and honest.

Harry scratched his head, trying to figure out how best to word his next question. All of this was very interesting but none of it really got to the crux of the issue. "And… it had no effect on my emotions?"

"No." Gabrielle answered bluntly.

"Could you have affected them?"

She hesitated. "Probably." She answered.

"The allure?"

"Among ozer ssings, yes."

"Explain them to me?"

She sighed. "Ze allure is pretty much exactly what it sounds like." She paused. "You actually might 'ave noticed it more from my sister zan from me?"

He shrugged. "I guess so."

"You 'ave to understand zat zere is no such ssing as a part Veela. You are eizer Veela or you are not. I was lucky enough to get ze Veela gene, my sister was not." Harry winced. He could only imagine how unpleasant that would have been for Fleur. "She still 'as Veela blood so a tiny bit of ze Veela magic still exists wissin 'er. 'er magic is not exactly soft magic, but it's closer to it. Anyways, Fleur 'as a much weaker version of ze allure but ze difference is, a true Veela like me, maman and ozers can control it, Fleur cannot — not really. She is getting better but she will never be able to suppress it completely."

Harry winced again. That sounded even more depressing. Being gawked at for something you could not control. It sounded awfully familiar and suddenly, he realized how much he and the eldest Delacour sister had in common. Gabrielle was gawked at too for certain, but at least it was for her natural beauty — at least he thought. "People gawk at you too, though." He said carefully.

"All Veela 'ave a sort of natural pull along with zeir beauty." She responded. "It is not ze allure, but it just… draws people's attention." She frowned. "It is also why I am razer tall for a woman, Fleur too. Veela are genetically made to draw attention." Harry nodded. It made sense.

"So you haven't been using the allure on me." He summarized. "But what are these… other things?"

"Veela are good wiss emotions." She told him. "It's not Legilimency, not really, but Veela are what witches and wizards call empaths. We can feel ze vague emotions of zose around us and if I touch a person, I can tell a lot more about zeir emotions and intent." She looked a bit sheepish. "Zat one is not overly common. It is a rare ability, even among Veela."

"So if you wanted to," Harry deduced. "you could have used your knowledge about my emotions to manipulate me." She nodded slowly. "But you never did?"

"Of course not!" She did not sound angry, just vehement.

Harry sighed. "I guess I owe you an apology then." He told her. "It's not that I ever thought you would do anything like that… just…"

"Shh." She told him, leaning forward and shocking Harry by softly touching her lips to his again. It was not really a kiss, just a soft peck to shut him up. It worked. "I should not 'ave done zat wissout your permission." She reflected before smirking coyly at his dumbstruck expression. "Though I am taking it you 'ave no objections?" Vaguely, he shook his head and Gabrielle laughed that melodic laugh that Harry enjoyed hearing so much.

"Zere is somessing else," she told him, and for the first time in this conversation, perhaps the first time in Harry's memory of her, Gabrielle's voice wavered.

"Go on?"

"I need you to promise me zat you will let me explain fully and zat you will not interrupt at any point?" Vaguely, Harry noted how much that sentence sounded like something his headmaster would say.

"I promise."

She sighed, reaching out for his hand as she made eye contact with him. "Zere is a rare phenomenon among Veela called a bond." She began, her voice not sounding quite as smooth nor as confident as it usually did. Harry nodded, squeezing her hand encouragingly and earning himself a weak smile in return. "It is a sort of romantic link between two people, zeir emotions and zeir magic."

And just like that, Harry pieced it together. "The two of us?" He whispered, Gabrielle shushed him but nodded.

"Yes, 'arry, ze two of us. I started feeling emotions zat were not mine over ze summer 'olidays. A bit of fear, but mostly grief, self 'atred and depression." Harry's eyes darkened, if only marginally. "I obviously understand why now, but at ze time, I did not quite realize what was going on until I finally pieced it togezer." Suddenly, she was holding both of his hands and had brought them up to her chest, something that was prompting a great battle between Harry and the blush that wanted to surface all over his face.

"This isn't something like… I don't know — we have to marry or you're never going to find love or anything, right?"

Gabrielle frowned. "Non, zat would be 'orrible." She told him. "A bond is simply when a Veela's magic finds anozer who it ssinks is most compatible to ze Veela." She sighed. "It is rarely, if ever wrong, but it usually scares a lot of wizards off." She paused, suddenly looking nervous. "I did not want to tell you." She admitted. "I did not want you to ssink- to ssink-"

"To think that you were only talking to me and entertaining my presence because your magic was forcing you to or something?" Gabrielle nodded. Harry squeezed both of her hands and tried his best to emulate the blazing look that had been present in her eyes at the conclusion of the first task. "Gabrielle, why in Merlin's name would I think that? You've helped me so much this year already." He paused. "Just tell me honestly that this bond has not and will not change anything about my emotions?"

"It will not." She told him with obvious sincerity in her eyes. "It 'as not and will never."

He smiled a very nervous but very obvious smile. "Well then, the way I see it, that was a pretty dumb thing to worry about." She made to speak but this time, it was Harry's turn to shush her. "It was you helping me this summer, wasn't it? I felt things that I definitely shouldn't have been feeling at the time." Hesitantly, she nodded. Harry just beamed at her with a look in his eyes that Gabrielle had never seen before. "You were a lifesaver." He said bluntly. "I have no idea what I would have done without those feelings back then and throughout this year…" he shook his head. "Gabrielle, the only person who should be apologizing is me."

"You?"

"You could have any bloody wizard on planet Earth just by smiling at him and this damned bond persuaded you to go for me?" Both of them laughed, even though Gabrielle didn't seem to realize that he was being more serious than she had picked up on.

"I would not 'ave it any ozer way." She told him after a minute or so.

Harry hesitated. "Well, Gryffindor courage help me, I suppose there's nothing more for it. Gabrielle, if you'd have me, I'd be the luckiest bloke on the British isles to be with you."

* * *

 **Authors Endnote:**

 **This is hands down the most nervous I have been about a chapter in this story, maybe ever. It is a moment I know a lot of you have been waiting for and I really hope I didn't make it too corny or muck it up in some other way.**

 **I also just want to point out that I know the scores are not the exact same as in canon. Frankly, I never understood how the hell Cedric did as well as he did and I always thought Fleur deserved to do better. I mean — yeah, her dress lit on fire, but she used hands down the most impressive magic out of any of the champions.**

 **Also, personally, I think Cedric being burnt all over and Krum causing the eggs to get destroyed are way bigger screw ups than Fleur's dress lighting on fire. Personally, I was never that impressed with Krum's run since he just used a pretty basic curse, but Karkaroff giving him the ten is what saved his score.**

 **One more chapter and then the Yule Ball… shoot me now.**

 **Also, I want to give a shoutout to DarknessEnthroned and his story "A Cadmean Victory." It is one of my favourite stories on the site and is where the whole concept of "soft magic" comes from.**

 **Please read and review.**


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